


Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose

by Dark_Violet



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Domestic Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Racism, Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Depression, Slurs, Top!Joe, bottom!Nicky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27879193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Violet/pseuds/Dark_Violet
Summary: - Joe came to London hoping to become a famous artist. He had to leave behind a family that doesn't approve of his choices, he’s also in love with love, which is why he often ends up suffering.Nicky arrived in London dreaming of opening a restaurant but ended up trapped in a very abusive relationship that put his whole life on hold.Their paths cross by chance and it all starts under the worst possible circumstances, so how is it going to end?- Joe/Nicky is my OTP, other pairings are just mentioned/implied.- Warning! Please read the tags carefully. This story will contain tooth rotting fluff, but also refernces to racism, domestic violence, non con and other definitely not nice things.- Title is stolen from one of the most beautiful song ever sung, "Me and Bobby McGee" by Janis Joplin ♥
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 200
Kudos: 332





	1. Family

Joe was excited, happy, nervous, and a lot of other things all together. It had been years since he had arrived in London, and he'd had to do literally everything to support himself, first in his studies, then as a penniless artist, until he'd somehow ended up in the orbit of a gallerist, who had also become his friend, and who really believed in Joe's work. Andromache, or as everybody called her Andy, was much more a fan of Joe's work then his own family, who had planned for him a job in the family business and possibly even a traditional family with three or five children.

It wasn't that Joe didn't love children, because he did, or that he wasn't proud of his father's success, because he was, but business and tradition just weren't his thing. Eventually he'd moved to England and since he was at it, he'd also declared his homosexuality. Now he was free to be himself, to chase his dreams, but of course it'd all come to a price, and now Joe was experiencing his first, small, but important success without the support of his parents.

A few hours before the opening of his very first solo exhibit Joe was simply over the moon, and sufficiently terrified to not be too disappointed that his family hadn't come to London. Andy's gallery wasn't that huge, but she had many important connections, so did her wife Quynh, a lawyer well on her way to fame. Between the two of them they had invited a lot of people, many of whom were wealthy or important in some way. Some were established art critics known for not being particularly generous with compliments, and Joe couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by the whole situation.

The doorbell startled him and Joe opened the door with his heart beating fast, but it was only Nile, his best friend, simply radiant in her elegant dress. Her beautiful smile, however, was quickly fading away.

"Joe, are you okay?" She asked with a small frown.

"Yes, sure, come in, I'll be ready in a minute."

Nile went in, she had insisted that Joe didn't go alone, knowing too well how nervous he'd be. It wasn't late, but they had to go, yet something in Joe's eyes had caught her off guard. Wasn't that supposed to be his night? He was supposed to be happy. “You sure everything is alright?” She asked again.

Joe took a deep breath, he felt so silly and even a bit ashamed to have Nile worry about him. “It's ok, really. It's just... what if nobody comes? What if they come and hate my stuff? What if..."

"Oh Joe," Nile said with a sweet smile, then hugged him. "You are a wonderful artist, it was about time London noticed you. Tonight we'll have a blast, I promise, but Booker is waiting for us in the car, we should go before somebody mistakes him for a stalker."

Joe had to laugh at that, and his heart warmed, it was so good to have friends. He returned the hug and did his best to calm down. “Ok let’s go,” he said, determined to enjoy the night.

It was only much later that Joe began to actually relax, though, partly from tiredness, partly because so many people had come and everyone had seemed genuinely enthusiastic. He still had a long way to go, he knew that, but it looked like his career was finally off to a good start.

Now that there were fewer people and that he'd done everything Andy had recommended in terms of PR, Joe could finally take a break to go to the bathroom. There was somebody already, down there, a handsome man with big clear eyes, who was washing his hands. They casually made eye contact through the mirror and Joe found himself oddly fascinated by the sight. He couldn't remember being introduced to him, though, and it was a mistake he intended to remedy.

"Hi there" he said.

"The artist himself!" The guy said turning aroung to properly face Joe. His voice was warm and so was his smile.

Joe had to fix the collar of his shirt. Was air-conditioning not working? Maybe he had to tell Andy, later. "So, would it be too cheeky of me, asking you if you are enjoying the exhibit?" He said insted.

"You can afford being cheeky,” the stranger said, “you're very talented, I'm so glad my boyfriend forced me to come."

Joe laughed at that, such a lovely italian accent, and such a pity the guy was taken already. "Well, I'm Yusuf, obviously. You?"

“Nicky.”

From there on the conversation flowed easy and natural, as if Joe and Nicky had known each other forever, but it didn't last long. Too soon a black-haired man in a perfect dark gray suit arrived, placed a heavy hand on Nicky's shoulder and said "finally I found you, where have you been?"

"Tom, honey, I told you where I was going," Nicky said, but his smile had grown tight and there was something in his eyes that Joe didn't particularly like.

"You didn't say you were planning to be here all evening,” the other man said. There was something wrong in his smile too.

"Anyway, it's getting late, how about we go home?" Nicky said then, his smile now replaced by an anxious expression that seemed so in contrast with how affectionatedly he circled his partner's hips with his arm. 

"Sure," the man, Tom, said, then smiled at Joe, finally greeted him, and gave him the most fake compliments Joe had ever received. Tom had to be one of those critics with a broomstick up their ass, Joe concluded, and he was probably half drunk too. In a few days Joe would find the guy's name under a terrible review, he was sure. Not that he cared much, a bad review was part of the game.

What definitely wasn't part of the game, of any game, was that as the two men left, Joe heard Tom very clearly when he said, “with a fucking Muslim, Nicky? Seriously?” Obviously he'd spoken with the intent of being heard.

"Hey!" Joe said, not at all willing to be insulted like that, no matter what.

"What?" Tom asked, turning slowly, with a cold, hostile smile.

Nicky immediately took Tom's hand, tried to smile and said, “me? With one of those people? I've got standards Tom, you know that,” then for good measure he even kissed him. Tom, more than kissing back, stuck his tongue down Nicky's throat, looking at Joe sideways with a triumphant glint in his eyes. “I hope so, Nicky. I hope so," he said, when he'd had enough.

"Go," Joe hissed. The man grinned, but left without a fuss. Nicky immediately followed him without sparing Joe a second glance.

And with that, the evening was ruined. It was certainly not the first racist insult Joe received in his life, but it didn't hurt any less, and besides Nicky had seemed so nice. He was a hypocrite and a liar, as well as a fucking racist, instead, and even the compliments to Joe's art were certainly fake.

Joe was so disappointed now, he knew it was stupid, he'd known Nicky for less than fifteen minutes, but he couldn't help it. He always tended to think the best of people, and that was what he got. What had he done wrong? What had he done to deserve those insults? Anger, frustration and sadness grew into his heart. He wanted to scream, or punch the mirror and who cared if he hurt his hand. But he also didn't want to give those bastards too much importance, especially not on a night like that. He washed his face with icy cold water and took another long moment to try to regain some control.

He was so focused on himself that he didn't hear the door opening again, so he jumped out of his skin when somebody called him. "Joe, here you are!” Fortunately, it was only one of his best friends, Booker, who apparently had been looking for him. "Andy wants you for some pics, or whatever hipster artists do in these circumstances." He said.

Joe was quite grateful for the distraction, Booker's words were just harmless fun. Despite that Joe had to put every effort into smiling for the camera. He only partially succeeded. No matter how hard he'd tried to be strong over the years, some things still hurt and always would.

When the evening was truly over, and the gallery was empty and dark, Quynh produced a bottle of champagne from Andy's office fridge and opened it. They had gathered there for a little after party to which only the closest friends were invited, which meant a grand total of five people: Andy with her wife Quynh, Booker and Nile, recently engaged and owners of the small publishing house that would soon print the first catalog of Yusuf Al-Kaysani works, and of course the artist.

That last toast was the most pleasant of the whole night, the tension was finally gone, and the women had kicked away their killer heels.

"So Joe, what went wrong?" Andy asked after a while.

“What do you mean?” Joe asked, hoping against hope he hadn't been found out so easily, but Andy could be unrelenting when she needed to be.

“Don't try to fool me, Joe,” she said, “one minute you where your usual sunny nervous wreck, and the next you looked like you wanted to burn the whole place to the ground."

An heavy silence fell, nobody dared to speak for a few, awkward instants, until Booker took courage "man, I saw you in the bathroom, you were... tense?"

"We just want to be sure you're okay, Joe," Nile added, "no pressure."

Maybe from exhaustion, or too much champagne, or because he needed it, Joe gave in. "It's nothing, really, it shouldn't even be worth mentioning," he sighed.

"So something happened, after all" Quynh said, suspiciously.

Joe hesitated, but the others were looking at him as if waiting for him to drop a bomb, so he spilled the beans, "long story short, I had a few words with a guy named Nicky, I guess this made his boyfriend jealous, so he insulted me."

"Who is this Nicky?" Quynh asked turning to Andy, but she shook her head, she had no idea, many people attended those events bringing their partners.

"Pretty face, Italian accent," Joe explained. "Too bad he's an asshole, while he was at it he insulted me too."

“I think I know who are we talking about” Andy said. “He came with Thomas Ward, of C-A Magazine.”

"C-A Magazine? Should I expect a negative review then?" Joe asked, already resigned.

Andy put a hand on his shoulder, “yes, but don't worry, I still have to read one gentle word written by Ward so you're in good company. I had to invite him because the editor of the magazine knows a lot of people, I'm sorry."

"What did they tell you?" Booker asked before Joe could answer.

Joe shrugged, “the same old stuff, you know.”

The others understood and pushed no further, but Nile put a hand on Joe's knee and squeezed it lightly. She wasn't new to that kind of experience either, and she knew how much just a single word could hurt.

Andy noticed and spoke again, more serious than Joe had ever seen her. "Joe, you'll never have to deal with that jerks again, I promise."

"I really hope to have the chance to deal with them, actually,” Quynh said with a pretty scary light in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Andy, Quynh, really," Joe said. "I had a wonderful night, everybody had a great time. No one has ever done so much for me, I'll never be able to repay you."

"You deserved it," Andy said with absolute confidence. “And never talk about repaying us again or I'll be very mad,” she ended with her scariest smile.

"God have mercy!” Joe laughed, and since he was actually feeling much better, he added “ok, no more sad faces." That Ward guy and his stupid boyfriend were assholes, but Joe had great friends, always there to watch his back, and that was a wonderful thing, worth celebrating. "To our beautiful family," he said rising his glass. The other joined him and with that the incident was forgotten.

Or so Joe believed.


	2. Home sweet home

In front of the mirror, with his hands resting on the sink, Nicky looked at himself and concluded, not for the first time, that he was an idiot. Tom was a good man, he had some problems but who didn't? He loved Nicky, he had taken care of him as soon as he'd arrived in London, short of energy and courage, as he'd already used it all to get away from a loving but controlling family. Nicky had to show some gratitude, and the best, simplest way was to avoid doing the few things he knew Tom hated. That morning, for example, Nicky had taken a call while Tom was in the shower, then being late for work, he had gone out in a hurry forgetting to pass the message. Had he not been so careless, Tom wouldn't have berated him, that evening, Nicky wouldn't have answered back, and now he wouldn't be wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

Anyway that night Tom did his best to show how sorry he was for his outburst. "You always make me mad, but I love you so much," he said as he joined Nicky in bed, then pushed him until Nicky was on his stomach.

"I'm sorry Tom" Nicky murmured into the pillow. He wasn't really in the mood, but Tom was already pulling his underwear down and fingering him open. The generous amount of lube wasn't so much kindness, as it was a message. Usually it meant that Tom intended to fuck him either very long or very hard. The butterflies in Nicky's stomach weren't of the best kind, but he wisely chose not to press his luck, after all he was the one who had forgotten to pass an important message, and despite the slap, their relationship was going on fairly well. Tom hadn't even be so mad after he'd caught Nicky flirting with a mediocre artist in a gallery bathroom.

Actually, Nicky wasn't flirting, and he found every single one of Yusuf Al-Kaysani's paintings beautiful, then again, he surely knew a lot less about art than Tom, so he wasn't in the position to judge. He quickly dismissed that memory, though, whenever he remembered how that night ended he only felt the deepest shame and regret. Besides, it was too late to fix things. Tom, on the other hand, was already inside him. If nothing else it was a very effective distraction, it felt good, even if Tom was a bit too enthusiastic, but eventually Nicky climaxed too, so he couldn't really complain, could he?

When he was done, Tom spoke with his usual condescension “go wash and come back to sleep. I love you,” and before hearing Nicky's answer, he was already sleeping like the dead.

Nicky sighed and did as Tom had said. As always. He wondered for a moment if the odd feeling in his heart was resentment. But what for? He concluded he was probably just tired, after a good night sleep everything would be fine.

A couple of weeks later, while making coffee for breakfast, Nicky announced that his boss, at the restaurant where he worked, wanted to talk to him and probably some good news was on the way. Tom always asked a thousand questions, in those circumstances, but Nicky understood, Tom was jealous because he was in love, and he cared for Nicky. He was just protective, which was sweet. That time Tom was actually very kind when he said "honey, I'm sorry I can't come and pick you up, we could've celebrated, but I have a lot of work today."

Nicky looked up in surprise. Tom didn't usually express his love like that, he generally preferred expensive gifts or passionate nights. Nicky knew that this would make many men, and women, jealous, but he'd never been a big fan of jewelry, hearing Tom talk like that, instead, had actually warmed his heart.

He kissed Tom of his own free will and said "it's ok, it will be as if you were there with me."

"It will" Tom said kissing him back, more and more passionately. Nicky laughed in the kiss, but he found himself trapped between the counter and the other man's body, and when he tried to free himself he failed.

"Tom, I'll be late," he said, trying to be gentle.

"If they really want you they'll wait" Tom said, then he took Nicky by the hips and made him turn around.

"No," Nicky said, but he immediately regretted it, he couldn't go to that meeting with a split lip, right?

"Hush, luv, you'll feel me inside all day, so it'll truly be like having me there with you, just as you said."

"Tom, please..."

"Now, don't be impatient,” Tom chuckled, purposefully misunderstanding Nicky's words. Eventually he had his way as usual, and when he finished, he patted Nicky on the ass and said “good luck my love. You know, I'd like some pasta tonight, if that's okay with you. But let it cook, this time. Oh, and not too much salt either, you know it's not good for our health."

Nicky didn't answer, but Tom didn't pay him any more attention while he finished his coffee and got ready to leave. On the door, he added “oh and Nicky? You can't go meet your boss dressed like that, wear the blue jacket I bought you. I swear, for an Italian you have zero sense of style."

Nicky could only glare at the closed door, but ended up wearing the blue jacket. Then, since his boss was actually giving him a more prominent role, with more responsibilities, Nicky actually felt like celebrating. He made Tom some overcooked pasta his nonna* would've deemed worthy of the trash can, and the red wine helped, too, when Tom asked, of course in complete good faith, "why did they choose you? Don't they have much more qualified people?”

Anyway, the peace wasn't meant to last very long.

Nicky now had to work longer hours, but he didn't mind. He'd come to London dreaming of opening his own restaurant, and while he needed the money, the field experience was worth even more. Tom's work, on the other hand, wasn't going too well. Nicky knew it even if Tom didn't share all the details Nicky couldn't understand anyway.

He could still see the outcome, however, which was that Tom was becoming even more edgy, and it was increasingly difficult for Nicky to avoid making him angry. It took very little, now, to trigger a reaction. Being yelled at, Nicky could tolerate, but it wasn't easy to find new excuses whenever he went to work with a new bruise. This, in turn, made Nicky increasingly tense. His boss had entrusted him with the direction of a small event organized by a publishing house. It was nothing particularly demanding, the customer had agreed on the menu with his boss and basically Nicky just needed to set up the room and manage the staff. It was still the first time he had the opportunity to supervise an event on his own, and he'd to make absolutely sure that everything went fine.

Sex seemed to appease Tom, generally, so when the big day finally came, Nicky had no bruises, even though he had a storm in his heart. He felt more and more often on the edge of an abyss, always having to check every word, or even his facial expression. In the morning he'd to wait to find out what mood Tom was in to see what his own day would be like. Nicky knew that no relationship was perfect, that he was supposed to support Tom if things didn't go well for him, but all that tension was starting to be simply too much to bear.

The day of the event wasn't the most relaxing either, but not for the reasons Nicky had anticipated. The client was a French man who greeted him warmly, but then, for no apparent reason, became cold and distant. However, he didn't hinder Nicky's work and that was enough.

It all went well, a few small incidents were quickly resolved and at the end of the day Nicky was exhausted but satisfied. While his staff dismantled the buffet he went to ask Mr Le Livre if there was something else he could do for him, but he was dismissed rather quickly, albeit politely, and with as few words as possible.

On his way home Nicky went over all the moments of that day, and concluded that he'd done everything as planned. Technically, nothing at all had gone wrong. He hoped Mr Le Livre wasn't going to complain about him, or the staff, to their boss and for a while that was his only concern, but when he was a few steps from home he had a sort of epiphany.

Nicky stopped, it was fortunate it was late and nobody was around while he

finally remembered, and everything became painfully clear. He'd seen the French guy at the opening of the exhibition of the talented emerging artist, the beautiful man with a perfect smile Nicky had insulted without even the courage to look him in the face. They two guys probably were friends, and it didn't matter that Nicky didn't think the things he'd said. He'd hurt another person just to save himself from the man he followed around like an obedient little dog, and somehow this made him feel even worse.

In the past Nicky had tried to get rid of that uncomfortable memory, but now he couldn't, and he felt much more shame and disgust for himself than all the times Tom had pointed out Nicky's mistakes and flaws in front of other people. He'd come to London to be independent, to open a restaurant for which he'd been saving money for years. To be happy, to put it simply. Instead he was becoming someone else's puppet, and that certainly didn't make him proud. Did he still love the man who was waiting for him at home, ready to keep him on a leash? Nicky didn't know, but he certainly didn't love himself for falling so low.

The idea of going home suddenly made him sick, and only then, standing on a poorly lit sidewalk, did Nicky admit to himself that it wasn't the first time. Sometimes he worked till late, doing more than was required of him, and he'd always told himself it was just because he wanted to impress his boss. Other times he went shopping twenty minutes from home, telling himself it was because buying top quality ingredients was important. Now he'd to accept that home was the last place he wanted to be. Either Tom was there, making him nervous just with his presence, or Nicky spent the time checking the watch, to try and anticipate when Tom would be back, all the while checking that everything was clean and tidy, that he'd something ready for dinner, that he was properly dressed. And when his stomach clenched when he heard a key turning the door open, wasn't exactly due to the joy of having his man back home. Home wasn't the safe place it was supposed to be, but Nicky's primary source of anxiety. And how the hell hadn't he noticed it before? But it was late, Tom was probably still waiting for him and the later Nicky was, the angrier Tom would be. Besides, he'd nowhere else to go. He opened the door with trembling hands, hoping to find Tom already asleep, and at least in that he was lucky.

The next day, however, Nicky's lucky star was probably distracted.

Tom went out early and came back later than usual, tired and nervous, only this time Nicky, who had the whole day to speculate on the revelations from the previous night, was tense too, and frustrated, because he knew he had to talk about his problems with Tom, because it was what adult couples did, but he wasn't really looking forward to the predictable outcome. Still, he was no longer willing to go out of his way just to keep Tom from rising his voice, or his hands. It wasn't worth the effort, not when Tom was so good at finding something to punish Nicky for anyway, taking for granted that Nicky would just lower his head and take it. But Nicky was stronger than they both suspected, and while he hated violence, that time he reacted to Tom's bullying. Not as forcefully as he should have, but he still left Tom unbalanced enough that the man went out slamming the door, leaving Nicky on the floor, in the rubble of a bookcase.

Once alone, as much as Nicky loved books, and as much as he knew Tom would be _disappointed_ if he found them still on the floor, he left them where they were and went to wash his face. It was a disaster already, and the next day would be worse. What he was going to say to his boss, Nicky had no idea, but he felt a lot better than he had in months, even though he knew the battle had just begun.

In the following days Tom went from being cold, to being passive aggressive, to offering an apology that Nicky struggled not to believe. Tom knew how to be charming, he found excuses, promised not to be violent ever again, he even told Nicky he was madly in love with him, and he was ready to die if Nicky left him.

Eventually Nicky was persuaded and things returned to normal for a while. Their relationship dragged on for a few months, during which Tom actually made some efforts, but Nicky was tired. There was an alarm bell in his head, constantly trying to warn him that this wasn't the real Tom, the real Tom was possessive and violent, and sooner or later the levees into which he had forced his horrible personality would crumble, or rather explode, probably in Nicky's face.

Nicky ignored his own fears, because he'd have felt horribly guilty breaking up with Tom after all he'd done for him, and besides he loved him. It took another couple of weeks for Nicky to accept that what he so stubbornly called love, was just fear of rebelling, of going away, of starting all over again, of being alone. Because Nicky, after all, was alone. He had good reasons not to go back to his family, and the people he knew in London were Tom's friends, because Tom had never let Nicky have friends of his own. Whenever they went to some fancy party, if Nicky tried to interact with people Tom got jealous, and if Nicky didn't, Tom got mad at his embarrassing social ineptitude. Whenever Nicky had dared to ask how on earth he was supposed to integrate into Tom's circle, Tom had stated that Nicky didn't need anybody else because he'd always take care of him. At first Nicky had even believed him, after all he truly wasn't good with people.

On one evening of their 'back to normal' life, Nicky was on the sofa leafing through a magazine, while Tom sat next to him, watching a movie and sipping a beer. An article caught Nicky's attention, it was about the new London art scene and among the most promising new artists, there was also a certain Yusuf Al-Kaysani. When Nicky read that name his heart made a small leap, it was a bittersweet memory but it still made a little smile appear on his face. There were no pictures of Yusuf, only of one of his paintings, but it was enough and Nicky stared at the page for a while, while Tom spoke to him.

"I'm talking to you, Nicolò" Tom said after a while, and Nicky guessed from his tone that he'd better answer.

"Sorry, I was distracted."

"I see, what the heck are you reading that is so interesting?"

"Nothing, just one of your competitors." Nicky joked, hoping of easing the tension. The magazine he was reading was not the one Tom worked for.

"Let me see," Tom said taking the magazine from Nicky quite abruptly; he gave a quick glance and returned it with a small smile of disdain, "you shouldn't waste your time with this bunch of incompetents."

"Incompetents?" Nicky asked innocently, and immediately regretted it.

“What do you call pseudo journalists who consider art some garbage made by a Brazilian hooker, two brats not even 20 years old, and a fucking Muslim? Who knows who these four losers had to fuck to end up on this cheap magazine."

Out of the blue, something inside Nicky snapped, "goddammit Tom!"

"What?" The other asked with so much innocence that once Nicky would have believed him. But not anymore.

"You know nothing about this people, you are too arrogant!" He said trying to keep his voice low.

Tom stared at him for a few seconds, then he spoke with so much calm it was actually scary, "you self-righteous, conceited little cunt. You know nothing about art or anything else, without me you'd be giving head on a street corner too."

“Enough, Tom.”

"I don't think so, Nicky. I make you live in a house you never even dreamed of, I buy you expensive clothes, I secured those four bits you earn working as a kitchen boy. I do everything for you, I can't believe how ungrateful you are."

Nicky's expectations about Tom went closer to zero with each passing day, yet hearing those words was as nice as a stab in the gut. He knew that in Tom's life he was just another ornament, a possession, but never before had Tom told him so openly how unworthy he believed Nicky to be. Still, Nicky always tried to bring peace, so that time too he chose to be patient, "it's not that I am not grateful, Tom, but..."

“Grateful, huh? Doesn't look like it. You changed Nicky, and I don't know if I like that."

Obviously, Nicky thought. Tom and patience were two parallels lines, destined to never meet, and Nicky was just so tired. "I don't care," he said softly, and it was true, there was very little, at that point, he really cared about.

"Let's stop here, Nicky, it's for your own good," Tom hissed.

"Yeah" Nicky said, and not because he feared for himself. Mostly, he needed to think. What the hell was he doing? Once he'd had friends, hobbies, and self-respect, and now what? Once he'd had a life, not a perfect one, but still a life, and the ability to look to the future with some hope. What had he become? His nonna would be so disappointed. He'd promised her to always do his best to be happy, but he'd never been so far from happiness in his whole life, and now he knew, with outstanding clarity, that things could only get worse. Unless, of course, he made something to rectify his own mistakes.

A little less than an hour passed in total silence. All the while Tom, perhaps, watched the movie, and Nicky had his eyes on the TV but his attention miles and miles away.

Eventually, Nicky concluded he'd nothing to lose. With the same clarity he saw that nobody would help him, which wasn't such a bad thing considering how the last time he'd accepted help, he'd ended in an abusive relationship. The night was going to end badly anyway, sooner or later the movie was going to end, Nicky simply had to move, to go to bed, and he was going to have Tom's attention on himself once again. Tom would push and push until Nicky gave him a reason to blame him of something, anything. So why not make it end with a bang?

With his gaze still on the TV, with his hands sweaty, his heart pounding, and with zero fucks left to give, Nicky eventually said "Tom?"

“What do you want?”

“It's over.”

Tom was silent for a while, then he gritted his teeth "go to bed Nicky, you're tired."

“Indeed.”

"I'm telling you, Nicolò, go to sleep."

Nicky got up, took a couple of steps towards the bedroom, then without turning around he said "tomorrow I'll go and stay with some friends. We could use a break."

Tom scoffed, “your cute little plan has a small flaw, you have no friends, Nicky. You have no one, you are no one." Tom's voice was so sappy it was evident he already felt victorious.

Nicky said nothing. In the two years with Tom, slowly and unknowingly, he had totally annihilated himself. He had no friends in London, but the memory of a brave and strong woman would always be with him, and in her name he took what little courage he'd left and said "I'll get a room somewhere."

The sound of shattering glass made Nicky turn abruptly. Tom was on his feet, wielding what was left of his bottle like a weapon, "poor Nicky, you really are a bit slow, huh? You should already know what happens when you make me angry."

This time Nicky didn't flinch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nonna = grandma
> 
> Also, I forgot to mention this story is tragically unbetad ^^'


	3. Lucky star

“Miss Freeman, this is for you,” the nurse said entering the small neon-lit room and handing Nile a folder. She took it and answered, "thank you, nurse Lisa, give me just a moment."

The nurse nodded and left her to study the documentation. Nile had been volunteering for some years at the hospital's association for the victims of domestic abuse. Quynh, who also offered her free service as a lawyer, had Nile involved, and they were both happy to be able to help, but all too often the victims refused to leave their abusers and report, and all too often Nile saw them return to her small office after a few months. It was always with a little trepidation that she opened the folders the nurse gave her, precisely because she was afraid of seeing a familiar face.

This case, however, was new and the victim was a man, not an absolute rarity but not a particularly frequent occurrence either. The documentation was pretty awful, the poor fellow had arrived in the emergency room three days before, in a pretty bad shape, and looked like no one had ever come to see him since then. He'd signed the exit slip apparently a bit too early, but he'd agreed to meet with a consultant. It was at least something.

Nile got up and walked towards the small anteroom where Mr. Nicolò di Genova was waiting for her, sitting on one of the faded plastic chairs, with a folded jacket in his hand, plus some leaflets he'd surely received from the nurse. He looked at her briefly, but averted his gaze soon after. Nile, instead, just couldn't stop staring, and it wasn't because of the nasty bruises on the man's face, which unfortunately weren't surprising. What left Nile speechless was that the guy was one of the two assholes who had insulted Joe, on the night of the opening of his exhibition.

All the anger, the pain and the resentment Nile had felt every time she'd been subjected to racist insults, hit her like a speeding train, and an horrible thought crawled like a poisonous snake through her mind: whatever happened, Nicolò di Genova, you deserved it.

But the man was waiting for her to make the first move, and like everyone else who passed by that room, he was too defeated to even be nervous, curious, awkward or anything else. Also, he hadn't recognized Nile, of this she was sure. Maybe it was for the best. Nile took a deep sigh and braced herself. Such cruel thoughts were not like her, no one deserved to be beaten like that, by someone who was supposed to love them. Just as doctors, who were bound by an oath, Nile had to put aside her personal beliefs as she'd been taught, and do what she was there for. After all she just had to show Nicolò that he could get help, maybe suggest him to start some therapy, in the secret hope that perhaps it'd also cure his stupid prejudices, and eventually offer him legal advice. Just like she did with everyone else.

Although the very idea that the guy would end up under Quynh's clutches was not reassuring in any respect.

"I'm Nile," she said finally, forcing herself to smile and hold out her hand.

"Nicky," the other said, and squeezed Nile's hand with his left, as his right wrist was in a heavy bandage.

"Please, come inside" Nile said, polite but detached.

They talked for over an hour, after which Nile had lost all her former certainties. That man, that Nicky, had taken her off guard. He seemed like a really good person, smart, well-mannered, even sweet. Nile had had a hard time making him open a bit, Nicky was like an empty shell, but at least he seemed determined to end the relationship he was in for good. This relieved Nile enormously, even though Nicky refused therapy. If nothing else, Nile had managed to convince him to get help with the practical implications, especially the legal ones. Apparently all of Nicky's savings were in a joint account he shared with his abusive partner, and it'd take one hell of a lawyer to unravel that mess.

This gave Nile a brand new headache. Quynh had taken Joe under her wing long before the incident at the gallery. Quynh was also 110% professional, though, so Nile didn't doubt she'd have done her best to help Nicky, it was still better to prepare her beforehand. There was time for that, at least, Nicky was going to meet Quynh the next week.

Nile's heart sank when she had to let him go, though. She greeted him with a much more sincere smile, but Nicky was too tired to reciprocate. Nile saw in him the signs of a nasty depression and despite everything she couldn't help but worry.

A simple, vague concern turned into something concrete the day before Nicky had to meet Quynh. He texted Nile apologizing profusely for cancelling the appointment, but didn't give her any explanations. Not that he was supposed to. Nile tried to kindly encourage him to take another one, but no reply came. This left both her and Quynh with a deep sense of defeat. They knew how difficult it was to sever certain ties, and people like Nicky were often too kind for their own good, possibly not firm enough. They usually had nowhere to go, and tended to be around hospitals quite often. Apparently Nicky didn't even have the financial means to go away. Nile just hoped she didn't have to see him again at the emergency room.

…

It was almost noon on a bright sunny day, but Joe was feeling down. The previous weeks had been full of good news and small successes, the exhibition at Andy's gallery had brought many important contacts, but now it was as if his luck had run out, and his career had slowed down. Joe would have accepted the fact as something inevitable that happened to every artist, but it'd become much harder not to feel haunted by luck when Eric, the guy he'd been happily dating for a while, had decided that Joe was a great guy, but red roses and chocolate were too much. Which was a nice way of saying that _Joe_ was too much. And so Eric was gone, like others before him.

Joe felt disappointed and humiliated, and above all stupid. What was wrong with him? And what about love? Was it such a bad thing too, nowadays? One stupid red rose was enough to make other people feel cornered? Except red roses weren't stupid. He'd seen a fair amount of them at home during his childhood, his parent's marriage was still an happy one, full of small gestures that warmed the heart. Was it too much for Joe to want something like that for himself? Those happy memories made him miss his family more then ever, but his parents were close in every respect, even in how they still hadn't forgiven him for his _choices_. Every time Joe invited them to London, his father would reply with an icy "we'll come eventually, but now I'm busy."

When Joe opened the fridge that morning and found it almost as desert as his heart, it really was the icing on the cake. The previous week the old lady who lived next door had left London to go and stay with her daughter in Bath, and Joe was happy for her, because he knew how bad it was to not have family close. Still, Mrs Wright used to make him pies, cookies, and lots of other incredibly tasty things to reward Joe for all the times he'd fixed her TV, or a window, or drove her to the doctor.

The new neighbors were pretty quiet, not that it was a bad thing, but Joe hadn't even seen them yet. They made their own repairs anyway, and they certainly didn't feed him. In the end, he went to the supermarket and stock up on instant noodles. Joe was actually a pretty decent cook, when he wanted, but lately he didn't feel creative in any way.

On his way home from the supermarket he found the door of the building half open and somebody in the elevator. Whoever was inside was quick enough to hold the sliding door open for him.

"Thanks," Joe said, hurrying into the small cabin.

"You're welcome" the other guy said, then the most awkward silence fell. The instant the two men were eye to eye they recognized each other.

Joe hardly forgot a face, much less that of someone who had hurt him, and it was clear in the other man's eyes that he too had recognized Joe.

“You... you are Yusuf, the artist,” the man said.

“The one too far below your standards? Yes, that's me,” Joe replied smoothly with a sharp smile. Then he noticed a fading bruise on the other man's cheekbone and the bandage on his wrist. He went very close to ask him if by chance he'd accidentally fallen into the Thames with his bike, since he found the thought disturbingly funny, but then he decided to be the better man and simply let the conversation drop.

The other guy instead blushed and stammered, "listen, I..."

"It's water under the bridge, really. I don't care," Joe said curtly. Kindness and manners had always been a value to him, but there were some things, few things, he just couldn't tolerate and if on a normal day he wouldn't have had patience for sloppy apologies, that day in particular just wasn't a good one for one of those 'I'm not a racist but' speeches.

Joe, however, had the confirmation that luck was totally laughing at him when he found out who his new neighbors were. The other guy, Nicky, came down to Joe's same floor, and at least he had the decency to look as embarrassed as Joe was annoyed. On the landing Nicky tentatively opened his mouth as if to say something else, but Joe wished him a good day, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice, then went home and closed the door.

Once inside he deposited his load of noodles on the table and left them there. That brief encounter had taken away his hunger, but the worst part was that when Joe tried to get back to work he failed in that too. He was saved by a text from Nile and Booker who invited him to join them at their little group's favorite pub.

Right now going out with friends was a true blessing, so Joe texted back a 'yes' at the speed of light. Yet he was still disappointed in himself because he was giving the whole situation too much importance. He was also annoyed at his idiot new neighbor who had the audacity to look like a decent guy.

With his friends Joe tried to be as natural as possible, but he couldn't fool them that night, just as he hadn't been able to fool them the previous time. Booker let him enjoy his first beer before saying "you look like somebody left all your brushes in the glue or something. Come on, speak."

Nile nudged her fiancé none too gently, but then joined forces with him, "Joe, my tactless boyfriend is right, something is troubling you."

Joe capitulated easily, it always did him good to talk to his friends, "I told you Mrs. Wright moved, right?"

“Yes. You're low in sugar or whaargh! Ma chère, your elbow is very pointy," Booker lamented after a second nudge.

Nile wasn't too contrite. "Sorry Joe, I'll take him to the vet asap, I promise," she said.

Joe finally laughed, and certainly didn't mind Booker's comment. In fact, it was nice to be able to laugh at his little troubles, and not for the first time he felt lucky to have trusted friends. "Well, my new neighbors are the very same asshole who gave me a shitty review on C-A Magazine and his boyfriend," he said.

Booker immediately turned serious. “Damn! Are they bothering you? Did they tell you something? Joe, I met one of them a few weeks ago, I didn't mention it because I thought it wasn't important. Anyway if you need a hand to kick their ass you can count on me."

“It's ok Book. Actually, up until now I hardly even heard them. Today I met the Italian guy for the first time."

"What did he say?" Nile asked.

“Close to nothing. He was definitely embarrassed."

"Serves him right!" Booker said. “And then?”

"Nothing. I went home."

"Oh well, it could have been worse,” Booker offered.

“I guess,” Joe agreed.

"So the other one, Ward, is he not around?" Nile asked.

“I haven't seen him.”

“Never? Not even once?” She insisted.

"No.”

"You sure?"

“Trust me Nile, I'd remember.”

“So maybe he doesn't even live there,” the girl said, mostly to herself.

Now she was the one in the spotlight, though. "Nile, why all these questions?" Booker asked, a bit anxious.

She shrugged, and tried to play the whole thing down, "I'm just curious."

“Yes, sure,” Joe scoffed. “Come on, girl, it's your turn.”

"Really, it's nothing," Nile tried again.

Joe then did his best (and failed) to look threatening, "Nile, my dearest friend, I'll eat all your fries one by one, and you know I mean it." To give more strength to his threat, Joe took a fry from his friend's dish and chewed it slowly, looking at her defiantly.

Nile was outraged, “do something, Booker!”

"Sorry honey, no crêpes for you until the end of the month," Booker answered with folded arms.

Nile sighed, "two on one is hardly fair, you are worse than a crime syndicate, and I can't talk about those who come to my office, you know that."

The two men immediately turned serious. "Who came?" Joe asked. “Nile, I'm so sorry, I don't want to push it's just... if my neighbor is physically violent I need to know.”

"Where you alone when you met that jerk?" Booker added, now seriously worried.

Nile sighed and took her fiancé hand as if to reassure him. "You know I can take care of myself and I wasn't alone anyway,” she said, not unkindly. “The office is inside the hospital, the security is everywhere."

Both Booker and Joe nodded, with her constant training at the gym, it was much more likely that Nile would be the one to protect them, than the other way around.

“Nicky came,” she said then. “His name is Nicolò, by the way. He seemed determined to end a very toxic relationship, I hope he did. He was perfectly respectful and also, well, nice.”

"Indeed" Joe muttered. Why couldn't Nicky just be a one hundred percent, complete bastard like his awful _ex_ -boyfriend, and make everything easier for Joe? “Actually, I think he lives by himself now,” Joe went on anyway, “his apartment is too silent, and that Ward is too much of a snob to even set foot in such a shabby building.”

“Well, this is good news at least. Now please, no more question," Nile begged.

Booker held her tightly and kissed her temple, while Joe said "forgive me Nile, please, and thanks for telling me." Then they moved to more pleasant topics.

Once back home Joe was a little tipsy and much more relaxed than when he'd gone out. He paused to look at his new neighbor's door. He even felt guilty for joking, if only mentally, about Nicky's bruises now that he knew how he got them. Behind the closed door everything was as quiet as ever anyway, and Joe promised himself not to think about the guy ever again.

In fact, it wasn't difficult. Most of the time it was like living next to an empty apartment and it was almost ten days before Joe met Nicky on the landing again.  
That afternoon Nicky was coming home while Joe was going out to buy some new colors instead of ordering them online as usual, just because he needed to go out for a while. That time as well they greeted each other briefly and once again it was as if Nicky was about to say something, but Joe saw in his eyes the very moment he gave up. Once out on the street Joe was almost disappointed, but his phone started ringing, distracting him. It was finally good news. In a few weeks Andy's gallery would host an exhibition about Ancient Egypt, and the curators wanted to commission Joe, of all people, a painting to enrich it.

Over the next few days Joe worked nonstop on what was the most challenging project he'd ever dealt with. The canvas was huge, even getting it through his door had been problematic. Andy intended to place it on the wall right in front of the main entrance, a privileged position from where it'd be perfectly visible. Joe just couldn't screw it up. They had commissioned him a modern portrait of an ancient god who represented wisdom, among other things, and it was ironic because at that moment Joe felt anything but wise. Maybe he shouldn't have accepted, given how little he knew about the subject. Maybe he should've admitted he wasn't such an experienced artist yet. Maybe he should just flee London.  
Or maybe, just maybe, he had to stop listening to his own fears. Anyway he was so focused on experiments and researches he often forgot to eat, and the small mountain of instant noodles decorating his kitchen showed no sign of subsiding.


	4. Good-neighbourly rules

Sitting alone at the kitchen table, Nicky stared blankly at nothing. It was difficult, now, to find the strength to do much more than that. Joy, enthusiasm, even the simple task of going through the usual routine, were now such distant memories they seemed to belong to someone else's life. Even anger, worry and sadness required energies that Nicky didn't have at the moment, or else he'd have noticed how dreary his new apartment was.

The previous owner had left behind some basic furniture, old and worn, just like Nicky felt most of the time.

He'd even canceled his appointment with the lawyer because he didn't feel like talking to anyone, not even that girl, Miss Freeman, who had been so good and kind to him. He vaguely wondered if he'd let her down, but then concluded she surely had much more important things to think about, and besides Nicky couldn't muster the strength to feel guilty.

Every now and then he asked himself if it was normal that he hadn't cried even once, neither in the ER, nor all the times Tom had called him to beg or threaten, to yell at him or swear eternal love, until Nicky had been forced to change his number. He could count how many people would be interested in having the new one on one hand, anyway. As absurd as it was, when Nicky stopped to think and look at himself, and realized he hadn't talked for days, he even missed Tom a little.

Then he also remembered that one of the reasons he was now basically buried alive in that cheap apartment was that Tom had costed him, among other things, his latest job. Nicky had to miss an important event at the last minute because he'd just gotten out of the hospital, and his boss hadn't taken it well. Working in the catering business, Nicky had to be around people often, but just as often he'd been forced by _circumstances_ to go to work with a bruised face. Eventually his boss, despite being a decent person, had had enough, had given him a small clearance, and told Nicky he could return when he'd solved all his problems.

Nicky had used that money and the few savings he'd had the foresight to put aside in the last few months, since his relationship with Tom had started going really bad, to pay the rent upfront for a few months, so at least he had somewhere to stay, but not much more than that.

At first he'd been so foolishly infatuated with Tom he'd accepted to open a joined account, like a real couple. It was supposed to be just temporary, Nicky had just arrived in London and the bureaucracy was too confusing, then he had settled into a fake sense of security, had let time pass, and now Tom was in the position to hold almost all of Nicky's savings, the money meant to open a restaurant and make his dream come true. As insignificant and stupid as it was, at least according to his ex. But Tom wasn't a thief, he'd promised to give Nicky his money back, down to the last penny, Nicky had just to go back with him, Tom had been very clear on that, since Nicky was still in the hospital.

Nicky, however, had no intention of doing so, Tom could keep his money and his dreams, he no longer cared about either of them.

The ping of the old, small microwave shook Nicky from his thoughts. He got up wearily to get his pizza out of the oven, and ate it there where he was, standing, leaning on the kitchen counter. As he chewed that gummy, precooked... stuff, a revelation hit him.

"It's useless to cry over spilled milk, Nicolino." It was one of the favorite sayings of grandma Maria, the person who had loved Nicky most in the world, perhaps even more than his parents. She always used that proverb after something had happened, to encourage him to stop dwelling on past mistakes, roll up his sleeves and think about the future. And it worked, every time. Nicky always listened to her.

He looked at what was still in his hand and concluded that not only that thing wasn't pizza, but also that he simply couldn't betray his grandmother's memory in such a brutal way. Not even feeling so down was a good excuse. If there was one thing he wouldn't let Tom take away from him, it was the teachings of that extraordinary woman. Nicky sighed, managed to finish the food because he couldn't stand wasting it, then checked what little cash he still had and decided it was worth investing some of it to equip his kitchen with the bare minimum. And of course also to buy some real food. In spite of Tom, who classified his passion as a housewife hobby, and since Nicky was at it, also in spite of his neighbor, Mr. Yusuf-I've-you-all-figured-out-Al-Kyasani, who apparently fed on instant noodles. Nicky wouldn't meet the same fate.

It took him over an hour to find the strength to actually go out, interacting with people was some sort of nightmare right now, but in the end Nicky acted as if he just had to take a bitter medicine. He went out, bought everything he needed, and once home he immediately set to work. Soon the simple act of cooking made him feel a little better, and since now he could even think a little more clearly, he also admitted he really couldn't blame Yusuf for not being particularly friendly. In fact, Nicky knew he deserved a lot worse than some perfectly understandable coldness. Also, maybe it'd have been better if the next time he met the guy he worked harder not to look like codfish. He still had to actually _try_ to talk to Yusuf, and of course he still needed to apologize a thousand times and many more. Hopefully Yusuf would even accept his apology. Why he cared so much about having the forgiveness of a perfect stranger, Nicky couldn't fathom, but he did, and he chose to not dwell on it too much. Of one thing he was sure, though, Nicky wasn't aiming to start anything: as well as his money Tom had also taken away his ability to love. Actually, even a simple friendship was now a distant utopia, but this didn't mean Nicky couldn't be at least a good neighbor.

That thought didn't leave him alone for the rest of that day. Of course, given the circumstances, the first step was up to him, but Nicky had never been good at breaking the ice, not even before, when he wasn't such a mess. Words just weren't his thing and Nicky wasn't even sure that Yusuf would listen to him.

The solution, obvious as it was, only occurred to him the next day, while Nicky washed some eggplants and remembered that there was a universal language in which he was quite fluent. That same evening, before what little courage he had miraculously mustered left him, Nicky knocked on Yusuf's door, heart in his mouth and pan in his hands, hoping his neighbor was out. Of course luck was busy somewhere else, and Nicky bit his lip almost bloody when he heard footsteps on the other side of the door.

If only he could have run! But it was too late to back out, Yusuf was only a couple of seconds away from opening the door, probably just to slam it in Nicky's face the next instant. In that case, at least, Nicky would have had a clear conscience for having made an attempt.

He took a deep breath when Yusuf finally appeared in front of him, looking 30% surprised and 70% suspicious. But not only that. Despite the fact that recently Nicky could only swing between anxiety and numbness, he didn't miss how charming the man looked, in his paint stained ocher t-shirt, tight in all the right places, and his lousy black pants.

That took Nicky quite by surprise.

Washing the dishes Nicky had practiced a lot, he'd planned to explain the reason of his visit, to offer his most heartfelt apology together with a small gift, and to briefly describe what was in the pan. Instead he said the first thing that crossed his mind, stupid as it was, "I'm sure somewhere you too have a grandmother ready to threaten you with a wooden spoon." That said, Nicky handed Yusuf his new white ceramic pan, covered with a cloth.

"Uh?" Joe said, quite confused, and Nicky couldn't blame him. For lack of better options he tried to act cool, or at least a little less stupid. "It's just a peace offering," he said, handing Joe once again the pan the man had been too stunned to take. This time Joe took it, still uncertain, but for Nicky it was enough. He greeted Joe and went back home with his head held high, as if nothing weird had happened, but as soon as he was safe behind his closed door, he cursed himself inwardly, and hurriedly looked through the peephole, with his heart beating like a drum.

Albeit slower, Joe was closing his door too, so Nicky couldn't even catch a glimpse of his expression. At least he hadn't thrown the pan at Nicky's head, wasting a carefully made eggplant parmigiana.

Nicky then retreated to his bedroom and sat at the desk _A grandmother ready to threaten you with a wooden spoon?_ He thought. Really? How could he have been such a complete idiot? Just because he'd seen Yusuf with enough instant food to feed an army it didn't mean the guy ate only that, or that his grandmother cared. Or that she was still alive. It was none of Nicky's business in the first place, and in any case it was unlikely that Joe would catch the reference to the stupid noodles, almost two weeks after their first meeting in the elevator.

Nicky rested his forehead on the wooden table with a little too much vehemence, and for a moment he really felt like the disaster Tom had often said he was. He remained where he was for a few more minutes, with a cold grip in the pit of his stomach for fear that Yusuf would knock at his door to give back an unwanted gift, but absolutely nothing happened, and eventually Nicky calmed down.

…

"Well, if this isn't odd," Joe muttered to himself. For a moment he stood there, pan in hand, unsure about what to do. His neighbor was still an asshole, and also sort of weird, yet Joe wasn't the kind of man to reject a peace offer, or even to hold a grudge too long.

In addition, from the still warm pan a delicious scent came, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in hours. Also, his last meal had in fact been instant food, as lately was often the case. Joe removed the cloth from the pan a little skeptically, maybe it was just a sick joke? Instead, examining the content, he recognized it for what was a typical Italian dish, eggplant parmigiana. He tasted just a small piece, wondering if maybe Nicky had drizzled it with laxative to take revenge for what Joe had told him in the elevator, he was supposed to be a jerk, after all, but the taste was as divine as the smell, and Joe decided it was worth the risk. One bite soon turned into a full meal, Joe devoured everything in minutes and eventually his poor stomach, no longer used to work so much, made him so drowsy that he had to lie down, even though he was planning to work until late that night as many others before.

As his eyes finally closed, the reference to his grandmother became clear. Joe, in fact, had grandmas and aunts who would be horrified in knowing he ate instant foods, and Nicky had seen him so loaded with noodles it wasn't a wonder he though Joe fed on those only. So now his not so jerky neighbor not only thought that he could bribe Joe with food, but also that he was the only one good at cooking. Well, Joe would plan a proper revenge, after a small nap. Eventually he slept until the next morning curled on his battered but comfortable couch, and he woke up with a smile on his lips, as he hadn't done for a long time.

Of course, having slept and ate properly had its effects on his body and mind, and luckily on his creativity as well. Joe felt full of energy, and he worked on his project for many hours, almost redesigning the whole thing, but in the end he was much more satisfied with the progress made that day, than in the rest of the week.

Joe therefore decided to give space to something else. His friends, for example, whom he hadn't seen in quite a while despite Nile's kind insistence and Andy's kind threats. That evening it was late to organize something with them, though, so Joe decided to devote himself to another pending matter.

The pan Nicky had brought him the day before was still in the sink. Empty, of course. Since Joe had to return it anyway, he could also take the opportunity to show Nicky that he was neither ungrateful nor inept. He still needed expert advice, though, so he spent the rest of the evening on the phone with aunt Fatima.

The next evening it was Joe who knocked on his neighbor's door, which Nicky opened slowly, almost warily. Given his faded jeans almost falling off his hips, his bare feet and his unkept hair, it was clear that he wasn't expecting a visit. Something inside Joe moved, though, and his voice came out kinder than expected when he gave Nicky his pan and cloth, and said "I've come to give you this back." Not that Joe had ever intended to be rude or hostile, he'd only opted for politeness, and nothing more.

When Nicky took the pan and realized it was heavy, he looked as if Joe had just subjected him to the worst cruelty in the world. He lowered his gaze for a moment, swallowed, and then forced himself to say, “oh, ok. I see.”

Something looked wrong, but then Joe realized that Nicky, in fact, hadn't understood anything. “No no no! It's not like you think!” He said hurriedly. “Nicky, it's just some pastilla, I, well, I wanted to return the favor as well. By the way it tasted really great. I mean, your eggplants." As to why he was suddenly so awkward, Joe would question later, for the moment he did his best to get a grip on himself. He succeeded somehow, and he was actually calmer when he said with a small, completely involuntary smile "I don't eat only noodles, you know?"

A small smile appeared on Nicky's face too, as his cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink when he said "I'm glad to know that". 

For some reason Joe felt like he was on hot coals again. "Well then, hum, see you," he said, and retreated back to the safety of his home.

"Hi, and thank you," Nicky said before it was too late. He then hurried to the kitchen to see what was inside the pan. He was very curious to taste the cuisine of the talented and fascinating artist who considered him a racist asshole and who despite it, or perhaps just because of that, remembered his name.

There was a pie inside the pan, which was nothing short of delicious; Nicky had fun trying to guess all the ingredients and spices, and when he finished that game he felt his eyes sting and his throat tighten. It had been more than two years since someone had cooked for him, more than two years since someone hadn't told him 'it's very good, Nicky, but next time add more of this or less of that'. And it'd been more than two years since the last time someone had given Nicky a simple gift, from the heart, without making him feel compelled to reciprocate with sex, because other forms of gratitude were quite unwelcome.

Mood swings were the order of the day, lately, and Nicky swallowed his tears as he's done so often before, but now for a different reason. For the first time in weeks he felt like looking forward again. Even if _forward_ at that moment simply meant finding a good reason to talk to his neighbor again.


	5. Little things

After giving Nicky back his pan, plus the pastilla, Joe felt oddly satisfied. Or at least more satisfied than anyone should have been for the simple fact of having returned some kitchenware to a neighbor. Of course the pan wasn't the point, if Joe was to be honest with himself, what had really made him feel so accomplished was the fact that Nicky had smiled at him. It had been an uncertain, a little suspicious smile, but still it'd been like seeing a star suddenly appear from behind the clouds. Maybe Joe should give Nicky another chance? Maybe he should try to talk to him, not in passing, and above all not with the shadow of an intrusive and maniacally jealous boyfriend hovering over them both.

It would have been nice, but what Joe had in mind looked too much like a date, and it was somehow incongruous: Nicky was still the one who had claimed he considered Joe beneath him. That bad memory deflated Joe's enthusiasm at once. Nicky's smile and his incredible eyes were dangerous, because they made Joe forget who the man really was, he needed to be more careful. Like so many other times in the past, eventually Joe would be the one who ended up suffering. Past his 30th birthday, it was about time he started learning from past mistakes, or so he kept on telling himself. Yet saying and doing were two very different things.

A few days later, indeed, Joe was forced to knock on his neighbor's door once again. A couple of nights before he'd gone to Andy and Quynh's for dinner, everything had been perfect, until the time to go home. Joe usually preferred to walk, and that time too, he'd chosen not to take the tube, halfway it had started raining heavily, though, and hadn't stopped since. It wasn't a big deal since Joe had to stay indoors to work, but that morning he'd woken up with all the symptoms of a bad cold. He'd tried to ignore them, of course to no avail. By late afternoon Joe was in a far worse shape: his throat was on fire and his headache was nothing short than horrible. Obviously his medicine cabinet was tragically empty, the few things that were still there had expired months ago: that was perhaps the only downside to having a robust health most of the time.

However, Joe couldn't work like that, but he didn't want to stop. He wasn't late, but he wasn't early either, and he didn't want to risk missing his deadline. With a quick glance out the window he saw that it was still pouring, and the trees were bent and shaken by the wind. At that point he could choose whether to brave the horrible weather of that autumn day to go to the pharmacy, and almost certainly make his situation worse, or call one of his friends and force them out in such bad weather. Another option was knocking on Nicky's door and beg for an aspirin.

After a brief debate with himself, Joe reluctantly chose the third option.

As soon as Nicky opened the door Joe saw in his eyes that he probably had a face that scared people.

"Yusuf, hey... are you ok?" Nicky hastened to ask, indeed.

“Hi, yes, more or less. Let's just say I've been better." Already Joe was babbling, it wasn't a good at all. “Anyway it's only a cold. I was wondering if you maybe have some aspirin. You know, just to avoid going out in this weather.” At that point Joe was stopped by a cough that trashed his poor throat even more.

This apparently alarmed Nicky further. "I've got something better, just give me a second." With those words he disappeared into the house, leaving the door open, then returned with a small white medicine box and his keys. "Come on, let's go," Nicky said, closing the door behind himself, "you'd better sit down."

"I guess you're right," was all Joe could say, he hadn't expected so much consideration, not that he minded.

Once inside Joe's apartment, Nicky said "it'll only take a few minutes, I won't bother you any further, I promise." Then pointing to the kitchen he added "may I?" Joe nodded, not quite sure what Nicky was planning to do, but the other man cleared up his doubts by heating some water on the fire. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Nicky spoke again, but he didn't dare looking at Joe, “I'm sorry you're sick, but I'm glad I can help. I know I have a lot to atone for.”

It was the first time that Nicky had openly admitted his mistake, and Joe was so stunned he couldn't say anything except a slurred "thank you."

Nicky then evidently decided it wasn't the right time to talk and suggested that his 'patient' sat on the couch in the living room, while he finished preparing his brew. Joe agreed because by now he ached all over, and sitting down was a great idea. After a short while Nicky brought him a steaming cup with some kind of tea with a delicate aroma of orange. He promised it was just a common drug where he came from, and that it'd work wonders for Joe's cold.

Since Joe was asking for nothing more than some small miracle to take away at least his headache, he accepted the cup with gratitude.

"I bet you haven't eaten yet," Nicky added.

Joe shrugged, past beyond caring that he probably sounded like a whiny child as he said, "my throat is on fire, I can't."

Nicky nodded and bit his lower lip absentmindedly. "I see. I may have just what you need, will you give it a try?" He asked.

“Hum... yes?” Joe answered, mostly to be polite.

“Alright, I'll be back in a minute.” With those words Nicky went out, leaving Joe's apartment's door only ajar. Joe was puzzled, but Nicky's hot infusion was spreading a pleasant warmth all through his body, and at that point he was also curious to see what else the guy was up to. Joe had to admit it was nice, for once, to have someone who took care of him when he was sick. It hadn't happened in years, since he'd left his parents' home. He had friends he could count on, and that knowledge was usually enough for him, so on the rare occasions when he was sick, he ended up not actually calling them.

He decided that while he waited for Nicky to come back he could lie down. Just five minutes to wait for the medicine to take effect and for Nicky to be back, then he could finally get to work.

When Joe woke up, he was still on the couch, still feeling terrible, but at least a bit better than before. Sitting up laboriously because of his aching bones, in the dim light of the small lamp on the coffee table, he realized not only that it was still (or already) four in the morning, but also that he had been sleeping under a blanket that wasn't his. It was incredibly soft, though, so Joe hugged it a little tighter and his heart skipped a beat as he remembered how the previous day had ended. Nicky... Joe had fallen asleep waiting for him and Nicky certainly hadn't wanted to wake him up. As Joe's brain slowly started to work again, he noticed a note on the coffee table. He took it and read

_Check the fridge. If you need anything this is my number..._

It was Nicky's of course. Joe shook his head with a small smile, then struggled to get up, still wrapped in the blanket as if it were a cloak. He wanted to get to bed but first he made a small detour to the kitchen. In the fridge there was some broth and next to it a bowl with what appeared to be pudding in it. Joe stood there, contemplating those things longer than necessary. It was food that went down easily, even with a sore throat.

Life knew how to be surprising, sometimes. The last guy Joe had dated couldn't cook to save his life, and anyway they'd never come even close to live together. Now Joe had a half-stranger, in his life, who was taking care of him like nobody had ever done before, and this warmed his heart, but at the same time left him full of doubts. Joe sighed, he'd promised himself not to get involved in any way, and yet he was intrigued. Could Nicky just be that nice or there was something else going on? Was his kindness just a way to apologize without actually saying he was sorry? Would he stop whenever he decided he'd done enough? Joe couldn't find an answer, at least not in the middle of the night, and not with a bad cold still plaguing him. He wasn't lucid enough to unravel that mystery, that was his only certainty at that point, so he gave up.

Eventually Joe managed to reach his bed and sleep a few hours more; when he woke up again he still felt weak, and hunger was just some distant memory, yet skipping breakfast felt somewhat like disappointing Nicky. He made mint tea and crumpets and as he ate he felt gradually better, however he was still far from his usual form, and could hardly do anything useful. Resigned, he spent the whole day napping on the couch, under the blanket that wasn't his, but he just couldn't let go, then ate Nicky's food for dinner. After that he finally began to feel better to the point he could also worry about all the lost hours of work.

A knock on the door startled him before he could actually act on his worry. Joe checked his phone, no messages from his friends telling they'd come to visit. It had to be Nicky, then. Joe hastened to straighten his clothes as best as he could, and thanked heaven for having had the strength to wash and change, that morning.

When Joe opened the door Nicky greeted him with a small smile. Joe noticed that he was wearing a heavy jacket and had an umbrella in his hand. He was going out, then, he wouldn't stop, and Joe just couldn't help but be disappointed.

"Hi, how do you feel?" Nicky tried, since Joe hadn't said anything yet.

“Definitely better,” Joe said, “by the way thank you for, well, everything.”

Nicky was evidently pleased, and his smile widened. "You're welcome. I'm going to the supermarket, I was wondering if you needed anything," he offered.

_Say you need something, anything!_ Joe told himself. _But that would make me a liar and a profiteer._ His conscience argued soon after, then added, _you just want to see him again, admit it._

Joe couldn't really argue that last point.

“Yusuf? Are you sure you're ok?" Nicky asked, since his neighbor was just staring at him blankly.

“Pineapple, please” Joe said then.

"Pineapple?"

To his credit, Joe managed to maintain some composure while mentally calling himself names in three languages. "Yes, you know, vitamins." He added trying to sound smart.

At that point it was obvious that Nicky just wanted to indulge him, "of course,” he nodded, “so, see you later.”

“Sure, and thank you, really.”

Once Nicky was gone Joe leaned against his closed door and ran a hand through his hair. How could he have been so stupid? He absolutely had to remember NOT to tell Booker, or he'd never see the end of it. Not that he deserved mercy anyway.

The most pressing problem, however, was that now Nicky surely thought he'd an imbecile living next door, and he wasn't even that far from the truth. No matter how hard Joe tried to remind himself that he shouldn't actually care what Nicky thought of him.

When Nicky knocked on Joe's door again, presenting him a _huge_ pineapple, Joe at least was able to behave normally. As he thanked Nicky, he invited him in. Not only he needed to have at least one normal conversation with him, to prove that he wasn't an idiot all the time, Joe was truly grateful for what Nicky was doing for him, and he wanted to show it.

"Do you have time for a coffee?" Joe asked, hoping Nicky could stay at least for a while. There was something fascinating in him, like a kind of melancholic sweetness that Joe found absolutely charming. Getting to know each other better wasn't the same as getting involved, was it?

"Sure, I have a lot of free time these days," Nicky answered, a bit surprised at being invited.

Trying to keep his cool Joe led the way into the kitchen and started making coffee while Nicky sat at the table.

"So, how are you settling into your new apartment?" Joe asked to kick-start the conversation.

Nicky shrugged "it's quiet, not too pretentious, like the rest of the neighborhood, I like it."

“Where did you live before?"

" Knightsbridge”

Joe couldn't help himself, “wow, nice!”

“It wasn't bad,” Nicky admitted laughing a little, but then looked away as the smile disappeared from his face, “actually, it was a bit too posh for me, but my ex boyfriend loved it.”

Joe nodded, then he remembered the night Nile had told him where she had met Nicky, and he couldn't help but be relieved to know for sure that Nicky had left the asshole who had beaten him so hard he'd needed the ER.

However, it was obvious that the breakup had been very painful for Nicky, both mentally and physically. The veil of sadness that always overshadowed Nicky's eyes now was particularly evident. Joe didn't like seeing him like that so hastened to change the topic.

"Anyway, Nicky, your cooking is truly exceptional," he said, and it wasn't just a compliment to distract the other man from his gloomy thoughts, it was 100% true, and needed to be said.

At those words Nicky lit up, "really?" He asked, unaware of how endearing Joe found him at that moment. Did it really take so little to make Nicky so happy?

"Absolutely!" Joe said, serving the coffee and sitting in front of his guest.

Nicky thanked him and almost tentatively said, “you know, sometimes I think I'd like to open a restaurant."

"That's a great idea, you'd get rich."

At that Nicky laughed openly, “that would be nice. What about you?” He asked, “I didn't mean to pry, but I saw you're working on a new project. Actually it's so big it was quite impossible to miss."

Joe chuckled, his living room was also his study, so obviously Nicky had seen what he was working on, and there was nothing wrong with it. He launched himself into an accurate explanation, telling Nicky all about the Egyptian god Khonsu, about what he represented, and about the exhibit that would open in three weeks. When he finished Joe realized that he'd just given a monologue and that Nicky had to be on the verge of suicide, so he hastened to apologize, "I got carried away, sorry. I must've bored you to death."

Nicky shook his head, though, "no, you didn't, the passion you put into the things you do is wonderful, and you are an exceptional artist. I'm sure the exhibition will be a success."

Joe could only blush, speechless. He'd doubted the compliments Nicky had paid him on the unfortunate night when they met for the first time, but now he didn't. Nicky was completely honest, Joe could see it in his eyes, in the way he was looking at him which made Joe feel both happy and confused. Apart from his closest friends and some colleague, people usually got bored quite soon when he raved about art. Nicky, on the other hand, was really interested despite being neither a close friend, not an insider. Joe went that close to invite him to the opening, or even to dinner, as the exhibition was still three weeks away, but just then Nicky's phone started vibrating quite noisily. He read a text, and from the grim expression on his face Joe knew it wasn't good news. He was genuinely sorry, and he also had a weird feeling about it, but he didn't want to be intrusive, so he didn't ask.

"I'm sorry, I need to go," Nicky said, then stood up. At the door he turned one last time, "thanks for the coffee," he said.

"Thanks for the pineapple," Joe replied promptly, and at least got Nicky to smile.

Once alone, Joe realized that he'd forgotten to give Nicky back the blanket and what was left of the medicine he no longer needed, so now he had a good excuse to visit Nicky in the following days, and also check on him. It was the least he could do, after everything Nicky had done for him, but it wasn't just that. Joe hadn't liked the look on Nicky's face after he'd read message, and he could no longer act as if nothing had happened.

He was worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is coming! I hope to be able to update one more time before the 25th, but if that doesn't happen, I wish anyone who celebrates a spectacular Christmas despite everything. And tons of love to everybody else ♥
> 
> Also, this was supposed to be my Christmas fic but I'm always late, so Christmas will come a little later too ^^' Anyway there're only a few hints, so the damage won't be too serious :D


	6. An unexpected visit

The brief visit to Joe's apartment had initially put Nicky in a good mood. The previous evening, when he'd found Joe curled on the couch, too ill even to stay awake, Nicky's heart had done a weird dance in his chest. He'd retrieved the softest blanket from the stuff inherited from Mrs. Wright, he'd stolen the lightest caress on Joe's beautiful black curls as he tucked him under the blanket, but he hadn't been able to do much more. Nicky was an intruder into Joe's home and life, no matter how much he wanted to watch over him. Then Joe had invited him for a coffee and for a while Nicky had had the luxury to pretend that they were just two friends sitting together and chatting. He'd been closer than ever to apologize, finally, for having been cruel to the man whose eyes shone so bright when he talked about his art, it was almost as if summer had come early. Instead Tom had come, albeit not in person, to take Nicky back in the cold, like so many other times in the past.

Nicky didn't want to take Yusuf down with him, into the shadows he couldn't escape from, so he'd left without giving an explanation. Once alone, he's spent some time wondering how Tom had gotten his new number, it didn't take long to figure that out, though. Tom could lie very well and could charm people, he'd probably called Nicky's parents and Nicky couldn't even blame them for being naïve, not when he'd been the one played like a fool for months.

Then the phone had started ringing, and Nicky's blood had run cold. The idea of talking to Tom terrified and repulsed him, but he knew that if he didn't answer that call, many more would come. Tom had acted like his usual, persistent self, besides he still had a powerful weapon: Nicky's money. Now that he was feeling a little better Nicky regretted cancelling the appointment with the lawyer, but it was too late now. Eventually Tom had snatched the promise of a lunch together on the following Sunday, and Nicky had given in only on the condition that he'd get to choose the place. He'd opted for a restaurant in one of the busiest streets in London, Tom was too calm and reasonable and that was not a good sign. In a public place, at least, Nicky would have felt safer.

Despite this, the following day, Saturday, was pure agony. Nicky was anguished at the idea of what would happen the next day. The memory of the last conversation he'd had with Tom was blurred, Nicky remembered the broken bottle, and the pain in his back when Tom had pushed him to the ground, and not much more than that, with one exception. Tom had taken Nicky's hand, almost as if to help him up, but instead he'd twisted it sharply. Even more than the pain, or the sound of his own scream, what Nicky would remember forever was the crack of his wrist breaking.

Now, Nicky was debating with himself about whether to knock on his neighbor's door. Maybe Yusuf was still resting, or he was working, and Nicky didn't want to bother him, yet his presence was calming, and his voice was soothing. In the end Nicky's dilemma solved itself when Yusuf knocked on his door.

Pleasantly surprised, Nicky gave himself a quick check in the mirror then rushed to open the door. Just as quickly his smile faded away, and the cold claw of fear gripped his stomach. There was Tom, not Yusuf, in front of him. Impeccably dressed, with a sardonic smile, a bouquet of flowers in his hand, Tom had brought also a blue bag that perhaps contained a bottle of some fine brand, or perhaps not, Nicky just didn't care.

"What can I say, darling, I couldn't wait," the man said as a greeting.

Nicky sighed, trying to keep the rising panic under control. "Tom you can't do this," he said squeezing the door handle tightly. He truly wanted to just slam the door in the other man's face, but he wasn't looking forward to Tom's reaction.

“I didn't do anything, Nicky. I just wanna talk. Please let me in,” Tom asked, too nicely.

“Go home, Tom, please. I'll see you tomorrow, as promised."

"My love, I can't wait!"

“Have you been drinking?”

"Just a bit? I miss you so much, look what you did to me."

Nicky, who was way too fed up with how Tom always managed to put the blame on him, said, “don't you even start, I didn't do anything, we're not even together, remember?"

Apparently caught off guard, Tom said "ok ok, it was just a joke," then as evidence of his inebriated state, he got down on one knee and handed Nicky the bouquet. "I'm begging you, Nicky, just let me in for five minutes!" He whined in a deliberately loud voice.

Alarmed, Nicky threw a quick look at the door in front of his own, which luckily remained closed. Yusuf was a good person, Nicky didn't want him involved in his own crappy life, and he didn't want him to see how pathetic he was. He sighed, and finally agreed to let Tom in. He could handle five minutes.

Turning around, Nicky didn't see the cynical smile on Tom's face, but he heard the whistle of mock approval loud and clear as the man entered the apartment. "Nice little place you found, Nicky, really."

"Stop it, Tom."

"No seriously, it's nice, maybe you should redecorate a little."

Nicky didn't doubt that Tom was lying, but the man was right at least about the redecoration part, which reminded Nicky of all the money Tom still owed him. However, he was hesitant to initiate that conversation, or any other. Nicky knew first hand how unpredictable Tom's reactions could be, especially when there was no one around who could see what a jerk he was.

"Here, for you," Tom said handing him the flowers once again.

This time Nicky took them. "Thanks, they're beautiful," he replied coldly, and busied himself putting them in a vase.

"Come on Nicky, offer me something to drink, it's good manners."

"I only have orange juice, sorry" Nicky said not sounding sorry at all, and hoping to get it over with as soon as possible.

Tom shrugged, sat at the kitchen table, and drank the juice Nicky had given him, but after the first sip he was already wrinkling his nose. "I've got you used to something better, if I'm not mistaken," he said.

"That fancy stuff wasn't worth the price," Nicky replied promptly. There was no doubt that he wasn't referring to the actual cost, but Tom didn't want to understand, and said "you gladly paid with your tight little ass, the food and all the nice things I bought you."

Nicky clenched his jaw, "I always wanted to pay my share, and you know it. Now please, leave," he said.

Predictably, Tom was already off on a tangent, "look at you now, drooling all over some fool who fancies himself a great artist and instead is just a failure."

Nicky stopped breathing and his eyes widened. Did Tom know who his neighbor was, then? How? He might just have read the name on the doorbell, or on the mailbox, right now Nicky just couldn't remember if Yusuf's name was written in plain sight somewhere, but for some reason he suspected something worse.

“Don't be so surprised, Nicky.” Tom said indeed. “You know how much I care about you, I did some research to make sure you were okay."

“I can't believe it!” Nicky almost shouted. “Tom, this is stalking!"

Tom wasn't particularly impressed by the accusation, instead he put the blue bag on the table and slowly pushed it to the center. "Come on, have a look inside, it's yours," he said.

Hesitant, Nicky looked, and saw that instead of a bottle of wine, the bag contained several wads of bills. He didn't even need to ask or count, he knew it was his money, and he also knew that Tom wouldn't just give it back by virtue of his good heart.

"It's mine if...?" Nicky asked crossing his arms.

Something in Tom's gaze shifted and became cold and feral, as if being forced to state the obvious irritated him beyond measure, "if you stop being the whore of a fucking Muslim beggar and come home right away."

Without thinking, Nicky slammed a hand on the table, starting Tom. "Shut up!" He said in no uncertain terms. He was just tired, to the bottom of his heart, of all the hatred that Tom carried inside himself, and that he unfailingly kept on pouring out on him. Nicky could bear to be insulted for the umpteenth time, but he couldn't tolerate Tom talking like that about Yusuf.

“You know what, Tom?” He said, blatantly ignoring his own fear. “I hardly know Yusuf and even so I know he's worth a thousand of you, now take the money and fuck off. I'll have my lawyer call you." With that Nicky stood up abruptly and walked towards the door with the intention of sending Tom away, but he didn't get that far. One hand gripped his hair, another bent his arm behind his back, and a shard of glass slipped painfully into his cheek as Tom slammed him against the wall, right where the mirror hung.

“Looks like I'm too late.” The man hissed. “Poor Nicky, did he fuck you so hard you forgot what really counts?"

“Fuck you Tom” Nicky growled. “Fuck. You!”

Those words only got Tom to tighten his grip on Nicky's hair. “You can't talk to me like that, you should know by now,” he said patronizingly, “but you're as dumb as you're pretty. Let's see what can we do.”

Tom then pulled Nicky toward himself, only to slam him against the wall once again, even more forcefully than before. The mirror fell and shattered into a thousand pieces and for an instant all Nicky could see was a cloud of sparkly dots. “Let me go!” He said, albeit he was now far beyond expecting words to have an effect.

Tom, in fact, answered with a vicious punch to Nicky's side and this time Nicky screamed, then let his instinct take over and elbowed Tom in the ribs. It was immensely satisfactory; Tom, on the other hand, didn't take it well. 

Joe came home late, that night. He'd been feeling much better for the whole day, so he'd agreed to a night out with his small group of friends. He'd thought for a moment to ask Nicky if he felt like joining them, but he'd changed his mind at the last moment. He still hadn't been able to frame him, and he wasn't sure Andy or Quynh would've liked the idea, given how their first and last encounter had gone. Not to mention the way Nile had met him. Joe wanted Nicky to have a good time, not a moment of pure embarrassment. He promised himself to organize everything beforehand the next time, and decided he could always drop in on Nicky the next day.

Returning home, though, Joe found out that he didn't even need to wait for the next morning.

Nicky's front door was open, and there was a faint smell of smoke coming from inside. It didn't look like the building would be on fire any time soon, but there was definitely something wrong. Joe walked slowly to the door with his hands trembling slightly.

He knocked quietly and called Nicky, but no answer came.

"Nicky?" He called louder and pushed the door just a little. "I'm Joe, can I come inside?"

The only answer he got was absolute silence, but he could hear his own heart beating like a drum. Hesitant and alert as if expecting imminent danger, Joe kept on walking. The first thing he saw was a shattered mirror, but the air was thicker with smoke and the smell of something burning was now more distinct.

He cursed himself, he should've known. Nicky was clearly upset when he'd left his apartment, two nights before. Joe should've checked on him, at least, before going out. "Nicky, I'm coming in." He said more firmly, even though he was now terrified.

Only then a muffled voice came from somewhere inside the apartment, "please go away," it said. It was Nicky's, but despite his words the tone was of someone who wanted everything but to be left alone. Joe then followed the sound of the voice to the kitchen, and it took him a few moments to see where Nicky actually was. The overturned chairs and something that had just stopped burning in the sink caught his attention for a moment, he hastened to open the window, but as soon as he saw Nicky sitting on the floor, with his back to the wall, his knees bent and his face hidden in his arms, he ran to him.

"Nicky?" Joe asked urgently, kneeling next to the other man, but when he put a hand on Nicky's shoulder he only got to make him flinch, so immediately removed it. “What happened? Please, Nicky, talk to me,” Joe said.

Nicky then lifted his face slowly, and leaned his head against the wall, leaving Joe all the time to asset the damage.

_My God_ Joe thought with a mix of horror, anger and a sense of helplessness that prevented him from speaking. There was so much blood running down Nicky's cheek, from a deep gash right next to his eye, down to his neck, and a dark bruise was forming at the corner of his mouth. His clothes were thorn, and judging by the way he was sitting, something was wrong with his back as well, but what scared Joe the most was the look in Nicky's eyes. Shame and pure resignation, when Joe would have much preferred anger or tears.

“I called you." Nicky said mechanically. He wasn't accusing, just stating a fact, as he looked through Joe as if he were a ghost.

A slap in the face would've been far less shocking, far less painful, for Joe. Nicky had asked for help, for his help; somebody was beating him bloody, and he was alone, while Joe was having fun with his friends. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to explain, but Nicky went on. “It's not your fault, you couldn't have heard me anyway. The fault is mine. This is the real me, a pathetic loser. Now you know,” he said in a flat tone, void of any emotion, which only scared Joe further.

"Nicky, no," Joe said firmly, then took out his phone. He didn't need to ask who had hurt Nicky, but he still didn't know how to deal, Nile would, though. Anyway he didn't get to make the call, because Nicky took his wrist and said, "you know? He burned all my money."

“What?” Joe asked, astonished. It was pure madness, which at least explained the smoke.

“He only cut the last rope tying me to him. He set me free. He's always been an idiot.” Nicky said, once again devoid of any emotion.

Joe agreed completely. “Indeed,” he said not bothering to hide his satisfaction. He wasn't a child, he could fully understand the value of money, but he also knew the importance of freedom and even if he realized it was none of his business, he couldn't help being happy to know that Nicky had finally, somehow, got rid of a bastard like Tom. Joe couldn't hate the jerk more, but what really made his blood boil was that he was too much of an asshole to even realize how lucky he'd been to have the love of someone like Nicky. Anyway, now he couldn't and wouldn't think about that poor excuse for a human being, he had to take Nicky to a doctor, and then possibly have Nile talk to him.

"Nicky, we need to go to the hospital." He said trying to be gentle but firm.

For some reason this seemed to alarm Nicky. "No please!" He said, and it was the first real reaction he'd had since Joe's arrival.

"But..." Joe tried, Nicky, however, stubbornly grabbed the hem of his jacket, as if to prevent him from going anywhere. “Please Yusuf, listen to me first,” he begged, “just give me five minutes then I'll go to the hospital, I promise.”

Joe was quite surprised. He wanted to listen to Nicky, he'd have gladly listened to him for hours and hours, but he couldn't imagine what was so urgent in the face of everything that had just happened. “Alright, I'll listen” he said eventually, since it seemed important to Nicky.

"I'm sorry,” was the first thing Nicky said.

Joe frowned, "it's not your fault, Nicky."

Nicky shook his head slowly and added, “every time I see you it's as if the sun shone brighter. You belong among good people, and I'm a mess. I didn't want to get you involved. You don't deserve any of this.”

“Neither do you.”

“I do, because I'm weak, and I'm a coward.”

Maybe it wasn't the time to argue, but Joe just couldn't keep silent on that point. “No, you're not, and this isn't your fault,” he said shaking his head.

Nicky went on, though. “Tom has been like this for a long time, but I never dared to face reality. I thought I loved him, and that he loved me back, but I was just being delusional. He never loved me, he likes owning things, he wanted to own me."

Joe didn't know what to say, his throat tightened and his eyes filled with unshed tears. He knew how it was to fall in love with the wrong person. He'd never run into an abusive relationship, but more than once his heart had been broken. Besides, he hated the idea that Nicky felt guilty for whatever that motherfucker of his ex boyfriend had done to him.

"You just can't help who you love, Nicky, you are neither weak nor a coward."

Out of the blue, or so Joe thought, Nicky said. “I never apologized for how I treated you that night."

It looked incongruous, at first, then Joe started to understand where Nicky was going, still he hadn't expected the conversation to take that turn. Albeit he was sure that Nicky just didn't need any more stress at the moment, Joe could also see that he really needed to get some things out of his system. And to some extent, Joe needed it too.

“I've tried to tell you this before, and every time I've lost my nerve,” Nicky said with a sigh, “but now I want you to know that I've never thought the things I said, neither about you nor about anyone else. You're not beneath me, if nothing else it's the other way around.”

Joe opened his mouth as if to say something, it most definitely wasn't the other way around, but Nicky wasn't done yet, so he let him finish.

“Tom was drunk that night, bored, and he's always been jealous. I was afraid he'd ruin your night, and even more than that, I was afraid he'd punish me. I tried to save myself and in order to do that I hurt you. You see? I'm a selfish coward, and I'm really sorry."

Joe was silent for a while. _I knew it_ was his first thought, and it was true. Nicky was too kind, too gentle, the way he acted, the way he spoke, it just didn't add up with what Joe had seen of him the night at Andy's gallery. Yet he couldn't deny that his words had hurt him, back then, and now that apology had lifted a weight from his soul. With a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions in his mind and heart, Joe eventually asked, "did it work?"

Nicky shrugged, "for a while."

"Then I'm glad you said what you said."

Nicky didn't look convinced, though, still clinging tightly to Joe's jacket, he said, “but I hurt you to save myself, please forgive me."

This time when Joe reached out to push a lock of hair behind Nicky's ear, he didn't flinch, so Joe took the chance to get a little closer. He gently cupped Nicky's cheek, not minding the blood, and kissed his forehead. "I forgive you, Nicky, of course I forgive you."

Nicky looked at him with wide eyes, almost as if Joe were an alien speaking an unknown language. The truth was worse, though, and Joe knew it: Nicky didn't believe he deserved to be forgiven so easily, so Joe felt the need to clarify and try to reassure him further. “That man is a monster, and you're a survivor. Anything that kept you safe from him is a blessing."

Too tired to argue further, Nicky finally gave in with a small sigh, "thanks Yusuf."

"It's Joe," the other man replied with a sweet smile.

“Joe?”

"Only my parents call me Yusuf, my friends call me Joe."

Nicky nodded uncertainly, but his eyes became a little more lively when he said “ok then, thanks... Joe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the not so festive chapter ^^'  
> I still wish you all a very happy something, whatever floats your boat :D  
> Be safe everybody!


	7. A house doesn't make a home

Nicky sat next to his suitcase in a hidden corner of the airport, in front of the glass wall from where he could see the planes land and depart. He didn't pay them any attention, though, with his elbows on his knees, his gaze fixed on the floor, and the curtain of chestnut hair offering a partial hideout from the rest of the world, Nicky kept on fidgeting with a ticket to Italy.

The phone vibrated in his pocket and he ignored it for a while. He had no idea who it might be, and wasn't particularly eager to find out. His parents didn't even know he'd bought that ticket, and he'd blocked Tom's number. Curiosity prevailed, eventually, and since the phone just didn't stop ringing, Nicky tiredly fished it from his pocket. There was an unknown number on the screen, and before his mind could even suggest a good reason not to, Nicky brushed the green icon and put the phone to his ear.

"Nicky?" Said a strained voice from the other side, "where are you?"

Nicky easily recognized Joe's voice, and vaguely remembered giving him his number. "At the airport," he said without bothering to lie.

A long silence followed, then Joe spoke again, uncertain, "are you leaving?"

“Apparently not.”

More silence followed, then Joe stated, "Nicky, stay where you are, I'm coming."

"Joe..."

"Please stay exactly where you are."

"Ok," Nicky sighed.

Forty minutes, a thousand thoughts, and a few texts later, Nicky was still sitting in the same position, when two long legs dressed in dark denim appeared in his field of vision. He looked up at the same moment the other man dropped to one knee in front of him "thank God I've found you," Joe said.

"You did," Nicky simply answered, he didn't know why Joe was there, and he didn't know what to say, he was just deadly tired. The previous day had been pure hell, thanks to Tom's visit, and the night hadn't been better, thanks to his brain refusing to shut up. The only good thing for Nicky was that Joe had forgiven him, and it was no trivial matter, but it still didn't explain why Joe was so relieved to have found him.

"Nicky why did you run away?" Joe asked kindly.

"I didn't, the doctor said I could go."

"Ok, but why aren't you at home?" Joe asked again, trying not to sound too inquisitive.

It took Nicky a while to sort out his thoughts, then he admitted, “I came here with so many dreams, but I failed at everything, so I thought to go back to Italy, but I failed in that too."

The idea of Nicky returning to Italy terrified Joe, and his fear was so clearly written on his face that Nicky felt almost guilty.

"I don't understand," Joe said tentatively, and Nicky showed him his ticket.

Joe frowned, gave the ticket a long scrutiny, and since it looked like Nicky's flight had gone more than two hours ago, he asked, "did you miss the plane?”

"I was on time," Nicky said placidly, without looking at Joe, then added, "when they announced my flight, I don't know, something just didn't feel right."

"What?" Joe asked in a faint voice, as his hands trembled, and he didn't care.

Nicky sighed, talking about those things was always difficult, but Joe was his friend, right? He'd said so himself and Nicky wanted to trust him. Besides, if he remembered a thing or two about normal and sane human relationship, it was that no secrets should exist between friends. “My parents didn't want me to come here, you know?” He started, “I had a destiny already written in my father's insurance agency, and if I go back now, I don't know, my family loves me but they think they know what's best for me, and maybe they do. I don't know anymore but I don't want to fight with them too and..."

“And?”

"I didn't say goodbye," Nicky said with a candor that impressed even himself. "You're always so nice to me, I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you."

Joe closed his eyes, swallowed down a knot in his throat, and took Nicky's cold hand between his own, which were warm and welcoming, then said as a mantra "thank you thank you thank you."

"What for?"

"For staying."

This time Nicky looked straight at Joe, almost as if he needed to search his beautiful brown eyes to be sure he was telling the truth. Nicky was as stunned as he could be, he had so much to gain from Joe's friendship, and close to nothing to offer, so why was Joe so relieved to have him around? His doubts only increased as Joe, unexpectedly, brushed Nicky's lips with his own. Nicky eyes widened, he was even more confused than before, but he didn't pull back and that kiss, small, delicate, light as a feather, ignited a spark of like in him that went very close to chase away the numbness from his tired mind.

In the end it wasn't enough, but when Joe stood up and offered him his hand, Nicky took it. "Let's go home, ok?" Joe said before they were both forced into a conversation that was too difficult given the circumstances. Nicky gladly accepted that diversion, stood up as well, then bitterly scoffed at himself as he said, "I returned the keys this morning, when I went to get my things, I was sure I wasn't coming back."

"It doesn't matter, you'll stay with me," Joe said as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Nicky shook his head, "I can't Joe, I keep on being in your way, surely you're busy. I'll stay in a hotel for tonight, and tomorrow I'll see what to do about the apartment."

_Like hell I'm letting you sleep alone in some shabby hotel room!_ Joe thought, but he didn't want to scare Nicky. The kiss had probably been too much already, he didn't regret it, per se, but he'd regret forever risking to impose anything on Nicky, who obviously wasn't ready for much more than an handshake. "Please just say yes," Joe said instead, "it's just one night and I can still work with you at home, actually I don't mind some company.”

Nicky found himself unable to deny Joe, and he really didn't want to sleep alone either, so he ended up accepting. The smile Joe gave him warmed his heart, and in some way gave him hope. For what, exactly, Nicky didn't know, but it still felt good.

He spent the afternoon curled up on Joe's sofa, wrapped into Mrs. Wright's famous blanket that Joe had never given back, luckily. He borrowed a book and read, while Joe worked in the same room. Nobody talked for a long time, and the silence was comforting and relaxing. For Nicky it was actually the best afternoon in weeks, if not months. Joe's mere presence, gravitating in his orbit, was something that gave him a sense of calm and serenity he no longer had hoped for.

From time to time Nicky raised his eyes from the book to study Joe, his movements, the small frown when he did something that required more focus. It was a spectacle that caught the eye, and that Nicky allowed himself only in small doses, not wanting Joe to feel observed. Yet watching him while he was so absorbed in what he was doing was like a clean slate that washed away all the bad thoughts. Nicky could've spent hours doing nothing but that. From time to time the memory of Joe's tiny kiss came back to his mind. It was a very pleasant memory, but Nicky didn't know what to make of it, exactly. It hadn't been a brotherly kiss, like the token of Joe's forgiveness had been, nor had it been a fiery lover's kiss. 

_If only we had met before,_ Nicky thought sadly.

If only that was his life. Spending quiet afternoons reading in the same room with an extraordinary man, in their home, with no need to be on the edge all the time, waiting to be caught out for what he was reading, for what he was wearing, for how he breathed or just for existing. As anger made its way into Nicky's heart, he struggled to drive away the bad memories. Tom had already stolen from him too many good things, Nicky wouldn't let him take away even that wonderful, little moment of peace, even if sometimes it was difficult to remember that things were now different. Nicky no longer had to live under the scrutiny of a judge too stern, who was only happy when he could scold and punish, but still he hoped to never fall in love again. It was consuming, painful, and if loneliness was the price, so be it.

Right now Nicky's priority was Joe, anyway. The man deserved to be surrounded by joy, laughs, to live in the light, while Nicky felt only a great darkness inside. He promised himself he'd try to decide what to do with his life, tomorrow, so that he didn't have to weigh on Joe's shoulders anymore. Since he wasn't going back to his family, and that was the only certainty, he needed to find a new job to begin with. Tomorrow. For tonight Nicky just wanted to bask in Joe's presence, and possibly stop thinking, so he lowered his eyes with a small sigh and went back to reading. In doing so he missed all the furtive glances Joe kept stealing.

Eventually Nicky spent the whole night on that same couch. Joe had tried to give him the bed, but Nicky had been adamant on that, he was sure he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, so the bed was wasted on him. He slept very little, in fact, his ribs throbbed painfully, the cut on his face too, and despite all of his best efforts, Tom kept on coming to his mind. When dawn came it was a blessing. 

Nicky got up despite the painful aching in his stiff muscles and bones, and stood a while looking out the window at a sky as gray as his mood. The street was wet and there was still hardly anyone around. Nicky preferred it that way, he was selfish and unfair, he knew it, but he hated to see people rush to start a new day, to go to work, to take the kids to school, to live, basically, while he was stuck, he couldn't go back, but he couldn't even move forward. His life was just as it had been two years before, with a lot more bad memories, and a lot less hope.

A noise from the kitchen made Nicky realize that Joe was awake too, so he retracted his earlier thought. People like Joe were the proof that hope might still be worth a try.

Not wanting to impose his bad mood on his host yet again, Nicky did his best to put on a neutral face, at least, and joined the other man in the kitchen. "Good morning," he said.

Joe's hair was a mess as he turned to him with a smile that was blinding despite his sleepy eyes and, if Nicky was to be completely honest, he looked just lovely.

“You're awake,” Joe said, his voice still hoarse from sleep. “Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thanks," Nicky lied and saw in the other man's eyes that he hadn't believed him. Joe, however, didn't push, "do you want some coffee?" He asked instead.

Nicky gladly accepted, then said “I'll call the landlord as soon as possible, I hope he hasn't given my apartment to somebody else already."

“Nicky, there's no rush, you know that. You can stay here as long as you want."

This time Nicky's smile was genuine. It'd have been nice to stay, but he couldn't, for so many reasons he couldn't name a single one. "Thanks Joe, really, but I'd better go," then, feeling like he'd just kicked a puppy, he added, "we'll still be neighbor, just like before. If you like, sometime I'd like to cook for you."

Joe hesitated for a moment, not because he had doubts, but because he liked the idea so much it almost blew him away, "I'd really like that," he finally said, then went back to make coffee because he couldn't keep his silly smile at bay.

Later that day Nicky was home again, but he wasn't particularly happy about it. At first he thought it was simply because that place didn't really feel like home. It was a bunch of walls with the bare minimum of furniture inside, which Nicky hadn't even chosen personally, but then he realized he simply couldn't be genuinely happy about anything.

The fact that December was just a handful of days away certainly didn't help. The previous two years he'd gone to Italy for Christmas. Tom had always refused to go with him, arguing that he'd work to do, friends to see and that family dinners were outdated anyway. He'd also found a way to make Nicky feel guilty enough for going, and ruin his family gathering even from a distance.

This year Nicky's parents were going to visit his brother in Vancouver. Of course he'd been invited too, but Nicky had made up an excuse to hide the fact that he was too broke to afford such an expensive trip. Not that he truly minded, he didn't feel particularly festive, and he feared that if his family detected his bad mood, and they would, the holidays would be ruined for everyone. Yet the idea of a lonely Christmas wasn't the best.

He didn't even call Joe in the following days. Nicky knew that Joe was very close to an important deadline, and he didn't want to bother him. Besides, Joe hadn't called either, according to Nicky it could only mean one thing, the most normal: Joe was kind and generous, but he'd every right to be tired of him. However, nearly a week after the day Nicky hadn't left for Italy, he found out he was fed up with feeling sorry for himself, so even though his first instincts were always towards Joe, he ended up calling Nile. He owed it to her anyway: as it'd turned out Nile was Joe's friend, and when he'd called her, she'd rushed to the hospital. They were supposed to meet again the next morning, the three of them, but Nicky had gone to the airport instead.

Nile was a volunteer and she was just doing her job, but Nicky wanted to apologize, and it wasn't only that. Just like Joe, Nile was bright and strong and gave him confidence. That day he simply spoke to her on the phone, but Nile was genuinely pleased to hear him, and this gave Nicky a little, much needed, push.

With the holidays approaching, at least, many bars and restaurants were looking for extra staff; working was an excellent solution to stop overthinking every little thing, and to chase away loneliness, so Nicky did his best and a few days later some good news finally arrived. While Nicky wasn't yet in the mood to leap for joy for having a new job, at least now he didn't have to worry too much about money. It was something already.

The second good news arrived when the first week of December had come and gone. Joe finally knocked on Nicky's door with a tired look and a huge grin on his face. Nicky was delighted and surprised, but inexplicably the knot in his stomach wasn't entirely pleasant, still he invited Joe inside without a second thought.

“I can't stay, I'm sorry” Joe said unexpectedly, then added "you know, I finished my last painting this morning, just in time. I'm waiting for the van from the gallery to come and pick me up, I'm going to deliver it in a few minutes."

"This is awesome, Joe, congratulations" Nicky said, and he wasn't faking his joy, Joe's happiness was infectious, but he still didn't understand why Joe was at his door if he was busy.

Nicky's curiosity only increased when Joe started to fidget, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Eventually, the man spoke, "there's a big something on Friday night, at the gallery. I was wondering if maybe you'd like to come and see my new scrawl."

So, that explained a lot, and now it was Nicky's turn to hesitate, “I'd love to come Joe, really,” he started.

"But?" Joe asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's just that I'm busy on Friday night," Nicky explained, both sorry and relieved at the same time, he wasn't sure he was ready to be among so many people. Working was different, he didn't need to socialize. Joe, instead, looked a lot like a dying candle, slowly losing its light.

“Oh, I see, nevermind...” he said.

“No, it's not like that,” Nicky hastened to say, Joe couldn't possibly believe he didn't care, “it's just that I have to work.”

"Do you have a new job?" Joe said, apparently coming back to life. "Nicky I'm so happy for you, don't worry about the stupid painting."

But Nicky worried, and Joe's art wasn't stupid. Joe was just so nice, and it was evident how important that night was to him. That he really wanted Nicky with him, especially considering how it'd gone the last time, well, that surely meant something and Nicky hated to let him down. Besides, he truly wanted to see the painting, he'd witnessed its genesis, and now he was genuinely curious, so he made up his mind. "I'm free on Saturday morning, I promise I will come, there will be fewer people around, and I'll enjoy the exhibit more."

Joe literally lit up, "I could come with you" he offered, “bore you to death with technical details. I mean, if you want.”

"I'd love it." Nicky replied and hoped against hope that the heat he felt rising to his face wasn't a blush.

Once alone Nicky had to ask himself if he'd a date, and eventually concluded that no, he hadn't a date. Yet that brief conversation, and knowing that Joe wasn't tired of him, had put him in a good mood, or at least as good as it could be those days, so he decided to implement one of Nile's many tips: shopping. The experience proved to be more pleasant than anticipated, with only a minor incident that occurred when everything was done already, when Nicky returned home. A critical glance at the elevator, which was out of order, at the stairs, which were steep, and at his load, which was heavy, convinced Nicky to text Joe, who hopefully wasn't still at the gallery. And no, it definitely wasn't an excuse to see him again.

"You busy?" He wrote, and Joe immediately texted back, “not much. What's up?”

"Assistance required in the hall, please?" Nicky replied.

"On my way," was Joe's prompt answer, and a few minutes later he was in the hall too, trying to hold back a laugh. "Damn!" he said running a hand through his hair.

"I know. I got carried away, I guess," Nicky replied looking less sheepish than he probably should've been. He was all bundled up in heavy clothes, his cheeks were flushed with cold and fatigue, and he looked both guilty and accomplished, which made it impossible for Joe not to stare.

"This is a _huge_ tree, Nicky." The man said when he realized he was already making a fool of himself.

"I did notice, right after dismissing the delivery guy," Nicky conceded.

"And the elevator is out of order," Joe said knowing he was stating the obvious.

"Indeed. That's why I was hoping I could borrow a bit of your time in exchange for some hot chocolate."

“Deal,” Joe said enthusiastically. To bring that green monster upstairs was going to be a pain, but a Christmas tree was a sing that Nicky was really trying to heal. Joe, who hadn't been able to call all week, but hadn't stopped worrying even for a moment, was prouder of Nicky than he had any right to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody! I had to rush a little but I'm glad I can update before the end of this shitty year.  
> The next chapter is scheduled for 2021 XD hopefully by then we'll be able to look at the future with a little more optimism ^^
> 
> Title stolen from U2's song "Sometimes you can't make it on your own"


	8. Khonsu

When Friday finally came Joe went to the gallery early as usual, formally to help Andy, but in truth he was just too excited to wait. Nile and Booker always came a little earlier too, for the same reasons. Upon his arrival Joe met Quynh who was also just entering; almost hesitant she greeted him and looked at him in a strange way . All the alarm bells in Joe's brain went off, was something wrong? Was his painting awful and Quynh was too kind to say so? He knew he didn't have to base all his self-confidence on the judgment of one single person, but she was one of his most trusted friend and Joe cared for her opinion. His nerves only got worse when the two of them walked into Andy's office. Booker and Nile were already there, talking to Andy, but the minute Joe and Quynh entered the room everybody fell silent and looked at him a little too intensely, just like Quynh.

"Okay, it sucks," Joe said pinching the bridge of his nose. "Andy, I screwed up, I'm so sorry."

"What?" Andy said, "Joe no, you did a wonderful job."

Joe was very glad to breathe again, but he hadn't resolved his doubts, "so, what's up, then?" He asked.

"He really doesn't know, I told you so," Booker remarked blatantly, Nile and Andy exchanged a puzzled look, and Joe turned just in time to Quynh to see her trying to suppress a giggle. Since she had an odd sense of humor her mirth wasn't reassuring at all.

"Well?" Joe asked again, starting to grow impatient.

Andy sighed, "let's go." She hooked her arm with Joe's one in a gesture that was both friendly and peremptory, then led him to the main hall, which was still dark. The others followed them as a procession.

"Booker, please, turn on the lights," Andy asked, and he promptly obeyed, so the small group found itself right in front of the huge canvas, now flooded in light, which depicted the lunar deity Khonsu, magnificent and imposing and so beautiful he truly looked like a creature from another world. Then, as no one dared to speak, and Joe still looked clueless, Nile opened her arms in disbelief "Joe, he looks exactly like to your neighbor, Nicky!"

This prompted Quynh's reaction, pretty incredulous as well, "are you two neighbors now?" She still didn't know about that detail and didn't find it reassuring at all. "Andy, did you know?" Andy shook her head mutely.

Joe's anwer came as a whisper. "Yes," he said, but his focus was all on his painting, and he was staring at it as if he was seeing it for the first time, agape and totally dismayed.

“Joe, you don't use models. Usually." Booker offered, hoping to bring him back on Hearth, and it sort of worked, but more like a bolt from the blue then what Booker had intended. Joe couldn't utter a single word because he was realizing just then, in that precise moment, that it was all frighteningly, absurdly true. He didn't use models, usually, and he hadn't that time as well. Yet his God, despite not being a portrait in the strict sense of the term, looked like Nicky without a shadow of a doubt. Even Andy and Quynh who had seen the guy only once had easily recognized him. And that wasn't even the worst part yet, the worst part was that Joe had invited Nicky to the exhibit the following day. He felt his cheeks turn to fire and the panic rise, until Andy took pity on him and tried to reassure him with a pat on his shoulder, "Joe you did nothing wrong, this may very well be your masterpiece, we're just worried about you."

Joe sighed and lowered his gaze. Of course they did, he was always enough of an idiot to give his friends reasons to worry. Anyway trying to deny was useless when one was stupid enough to wear his heart on his sleeve, or on his canvas, as in that case. His friends were right even if they hadn't said anything yet: everyone knew that he always ended up stuck in impossible situations, where he was the one suffering. Joe knew it too, and indeed, that time as well he'd managed to put himself in the most awkward position possible without even noticing. And why on heart did he have to make everything worse inviting Nicky? Was there a polite way to uninvite him now? Probably no, Joe concluded, and as he fought tooth and nail to rationalize his problem he decided that at the very least he wouldn't let his own stupidity ruin that day, for himself and for his friends, especially Andy, who still believed in him even if she knew what kind of moron he was.

"Guys, it's okay, really," he said trying to get a grip on himself. "Everything is under control, you don't need to worry."

The others looked at him skeptically, Andy more then everybody else. “Joe, that's the bastard who insulted you, he even hangs out with racist wingbags like Thomas Ward. By the way, if I see him here tonight I'll punch him, and why didn't you tell us they're your neighbors, now?"

Joe couldn't help but smile at those words, he was grateful to Andy for her passion in defending him, even though she only had a partial vision of the truth, but it wasn't her fault if she didn't know things Joe hadn't told her.

He exchanged a doubtful look with Nile, who was the only one who knew that Nicky was anything but a bastard, and she nodded as if to encourage him. It wasn't their place to tell those things, but what else could he do?

“Nicky has apologized to me, he's a good person, I promise." He said, "and that Ward asshole is out of the picture for good, hopefully. Anyway Nicky and I are just friends.”

Nicky too came to the aid, "I've talked to him a couple of times too, he's ok, really." Andy and Quynh gave her a searching look, Booker too, despite knowing a few details more, but there was no time to chat now, the first guests where already at the door. Andy sighed, Joe's reaction to his own painting was proof enough that things weren't that simple, but at least for the moment she had to leave it alone, "alright Joe, just know that I can put your pretty muse back on my blacklist in a second."

At _your pretty muse_ Joe's heart skipped a beat, but he hugged her tightly, "I don't doubt it, Andy, and thank you."

"Hey, you'll ruin my dress!" Andy laughed, but returned the hug just as fiercely.

The exhibit at least was a success, Joe was much more relaxed then the first time and nobody harassed him which was definitely a plus, so much so that he managed to relegate the problem he had created for himself to a corner of his mind. The morning after, however, didn't go as smoothly.

It was a chilly and sunny Saturday morning and Joe woke up both eager to see Nicky (even if he was just a friend) and terrified of what the guy might say about the painting. The more Joe thought about it, the closer he went to panic again. Not for the first time he wondered if he could and should just call the whole thing off, but the sad reality was that he didn't want to miss the chance to spend some time with Nicky, and it'd have been a pointless sacrifice anyway. Nicky would still go, if not that morning, then another day, Joe might as well go with him and try to contain the damage.

When Nicky knocked on his door, ready to go, Joe startled, then decided to play it as cool as possible, as if there was nothing to hide or disguise. Because it was indeed so. Unconsciously painting the face of your beautiful neighbor was normal, right? Especially when said neighbor had been pretty much the only human being the artist had interacted with for days on end. Nicky had also been in the same room for a few hours while Joe worked, so it was just normal that Joe had been inspired by him. Nicky surely would understand.

The memory of him curled on Joe's couch didn't really help, though. It hit Joe every time like a dart to the heart, and how could it be different? That day Nicky had been so sad, confused, alone, anyone who didn't have a heart of stone would have felt the urge to protect him, to welcome him and watch over him, or so Joe liked to think.

Just to be safe, along the way to the gallery, he explained to Nicky in detail the concept of imitation in art, and how reality influenced the artists' vision. Nicky listened politely, and Joe almost hoped he'd bored him enough to make him catatonic.

Unfortunately, Nicky's interest was real, and Joe couldn't fathom how much Nicky liked hearing the sound of his voice. Another thing Joe didn't know whas that Nicky was totally doped on coffee that morning, since he'd worked late the night before, and now he was more awake than ever. Despite all of his best efforts, when they finally reached the gallery, Joe's heart was beating fast. Why, exactly, he didn't know, he wasn't such a nervous wreck usually, only later did he classify that feeling of uneasiness as some sort of premonition.

The two visited the exhibition quickly, with the intent of coming back later to dwell on some of their favorite pieces, which often coincided, but even if Nicky hadn't explicitly said so, while he enjoyed all the Egyptian antiquities, he was there mostly for the painting he'd seen Joe work on with so much passion.

When they finally came in front of the large canvas, Nicky's first reaction was one of genuine amazement. The God Khonsu was astonishing, and one of the most beautiful things Nicky had ever seen. The starry sky in the background reminded him of the summer nights in Genoa, while the God seemed to look at him straight in the eyes, and then in the depths of his heart. He was majestic, but he looked kind, he didn't smile, but he seemed serene. Then something just _clicked_ and Nicky felt as if he'd just been slapped, as his heart began to beat too fast. For a moment it was as if his brain had blacked out, and not a single coherent thought occurred to him.

For Joe it was a nightmare come true, Nicky hadn't said a word, but he had turned pale, so of course he'd noticed the outstanding resemblance and of course he found the thing creepy. "Nicky?" He asked tentatively, even though he feared the answer, whatever it may be, like a prisoner fearing a death sentence. Joe had been ready for an awfully awkward moment, he'd feared he would have to stammer an explanation, or even that Nicky would laugh at him, albeit without malice, because by now Joe knew that there was not a single ounce of cruelty in his heart. But he hadn't been ready for this: Nicky looked even more upset now than after Tom's beating, and Joe hadn't know waht to do then just like he didn't know now.

Then Nicky spoke, too cold and to distant. "It's very nice, Joe, really," he simply stated, averting his gaze both from Joe and the painting.

Joe's head spun, there was something wrong in the way Nicky had spoken, at that point, however, it was useless to beat around the bush, he clenched his fists and mustered up all his courage, "Nicky, I'm sorry, it was... it just happened."

Only then did Nicky turn to him, still pale, almost struggling to breath, but resolute, “you don't need to apologize, it's wonderful, really."

Joe nodded and mumbled a thank you, then instinctively took Nicky's hand, to beg for his forgiveness even though Nicky had already told him there was nothing to forgive, but Nicky pulled his hand away, and Joe wanted to die.

“I can't, Joe. Forgive me.”

"Nicky, I'm not asking you anything," Joe said in a shaky voice. Somehow this didn't help at all, if anything Nicky looked more upset by the minute.

“I know, I'm sorry. It's not your fault. I need air. I... I have to go.” Then, unable to wait for an answer, Nicky hastened toward the exit, but couldn't go too far. He bumped into someone coming from the opposite direction, and was forced to stop while Joe followed him, as if something dangerous was about to happen, and he had to prevent it.

"I'm sorry," Nicky babbled, then gave a closer look at the person, the woman, with whom he had collided. While Joe could see that Nicky remembered Andy at least vaguely, since Tom had introduced him to her the first time, he saw on Andy's face the exact moment she had recognized Nicky. Her steely gaze went from him, to Joe, then back to Nicky, and she evidently noticed that something was wrong because her eyes turned even colder within a second.

Nicky noticed it too, went very close to flinch and opened his mouth as if to say something, but he didn't have the time.

"Get. Out." Andy hissed, and Nicky, who actually wanted to be miles away, obeyed without a word, leaving Joe standing in the middle of the still half-empty gallery, shocked and desperate, with clenched fists and a lump in his throat.

"Joe, what's going on?" Andy asked, taking him gently by the wrist, her blue eyes were now kind and worried again.

Joe didn't answer, he looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. Nicky was just his neighbor, he could hardly consider him a friend, so why did he feel like crying?

"Come on," Andy said then, the few other visitors had witnessed the whole scene and were now doing their best to not stare, but she still needed to get Joe out of there, and possibly make him drink something strong.

Once safely locked in Andy's office, Joe sighed, "It was all my fault."

"How?" The woman asked trying not to get too incensed, it was not the time and she didn't want to make hasty judgments, but she hated to see Joe like that, and right now she couldn't help but hate Nicky too, who in one way or another had to be the cause of that disaster.

"That stupid painting... I should have warned him at least." Joe said, mostly to himself, shaking his head.

"I know there are many things I don't know, Joe, but I'm sure you haven't done anything wrong. That Nicky is a jerk," Andy said with absolute certainty. She didn't know if she had any right to ask for details, but in the end she didn't have to, Joe needed to talk and so he did. "It's my fault," he repeated. "I kissed him when he was vulnerable, and now this."

"Joe, thousands of people would pay a fortune for your kisses," Andy said, and she truly meant it, so Joe smiled bitterly. What on heart had he ever done to deserve her? Anyway, even if Andy were right, and he doubted it, Nicky was not among those thousands of people, evidently.

He slumped on a chair, like a very frustrated puppet without the strings. "He's going through a difficult time,” he told Andy, “he needs a friend and I do nothing but take advantage of him."

Andy had a few words about that, but chose to tone it down a little for Joe's sake. "We both know you're not that kind of person, and Nicky would do well to understand that too, or he'll be in a lot of trouble."

Joe didn't get the veiled, half involuntary treat, or chose to ignore it, he was too focused on his own guilt. “I didn't mean to kiss him, you know, but I couldn't help myself, and until yesterday I didn't even realize how much my God looked like him. How could I have possibly been so oblivious!"

Andy sighed, she desperately wanted to make Joe feel better, but she didn't know how, she wasn't very good at human relationships to begin with. "So, he rejected you?" She asked.

"Not really, there was nothing to reject, but he panicked. Of course. He's been abused for years and now I'm acting like a creep!"

“Hum.”

"It's like it was with Eric, you know? Except me and Nicky aren't even together."

Andy vaguely remembered Eric, Joe had dated the guy for a while, and she'd always thought he wasn't nearly good enough for Joe, so the end of their relationship hadn't really come as a surprise. "What do you mean?" She still asked.

"Did I ever tell you why Eric dumped me?"

“No”

“It was too much, according to him. _I_ was too much. And apparently I still am. I just scare people away, what's wrong with me, Andy?"

Andy would've preferred a punch in the gut rather than knowing that Joe thought so low of himself. Rather than knowing that people were so withered, and cold that they made a man like Joe think he was wrong.

"Absolutely nothing is wrong with you, Joe, I swear," was all she could say. She wished Nile was there, she was good with words while Andy felt totally inadequate. Right now Joe needed good advices, while she only wanted to smash the face of all the Erics and Nickys, and of anyone else who had ever dared to hurt her friend to the point he'd to think there was something wrong with him, but she couldn't, so she sat next to Joe and held him, hoping that it was enough.

More or less at that same moment Nicky was walking home so fast he was almost running, with his heart in his throat and the cold clutch of fear gripping his stomach painfully. He felt like he was on the verge of some horrific catastrophe and even though he knew, rationally, that he was safe and nothing at all had happened, he couldn't help but be terrified. Once at home he drank some water to calm down, found that it hadn't helped at all, and threw the glass in the sink with so much force it shattered. Then he sat down on the couch with his head in his hands.

He'd ruined everything, he had hurt Joe, again, the most wonderful person he'd ever met, whose only fault had been trying to be his friend, and for what? A normal person would have been honored to have inspired the work of an exceptional artist, and Joe, for his part, had never demanded anything in return, not even once. This time there was no Tom to blame, Nicky had done it all by himself, and now he was going to be alone forever. And just when he'd dared to hope that things were finally getting better.

He fidgeted with his phone for a long time, trying to find the courage to call Joe, then he gave up. What could he possibly tell him? Excuse me if I'm crazy? Forgive me if I can't do anything but hurt you? Surely Joe no longer wanted to deal with him, and Nicky couldn't blame him.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the couch, so that he didn't have to look at the stupidly large Christmas tree he'd brought home thanks to Joe's help. It'd been tiring, but also fun, and it'd been even better afterwards, chatting with Joe about all and nothing, while drinking hot chocolate and eating cookies.

That memory made Nicky's mind wander. The scent of freshly baked cookies was one of his most remote and cherished memories, together with that of tangerines, or of the eucalyptus candies his dad bought him on Sundays, after the Mass, when he was a kid and his only problem was older boys stealing his and his brother's ball. A silent tear run down his cheek and he smiled a little to himself as he recalled long afternoons spent playing with Lego bricks in a pool of sun, on the battered floor of his grandma's house. He missed her so much, she was the one who always knew how to show him the light at the end of the tunnel with an old proverb and a cup of milk. She encouraged him to do better when he got a bad grade in school, she held him tight as he came to terms with his sexuality for the first time. She had also been the one who had inspired him to leave the nest and test his wings, telling him stories of his grandfather, who went to seek his fortune in America at a time when a letter took two months to cross the ocean.

Nicky sat there motionless for a long while, until much later he heard a door opening and closing. Joe had probably just got home and Nicky felt the same awful feeling of dread he'd felt that morning. His grandma was dead, his brother was a world away and his parents were slowly fading from his life. Now he'd even lost the friendship of the only living person able to make him feel the desire to move forward, to live.

Tom had been right after all, beside him Nicky had nobody, neither in London, nor anywhere else in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst is my not so guilty pleasure, I'm sorry? ^^'
> 
> Anyway, I've a brand new blog, which isn't a side blog so I can follow people back, yay! https://darkvioletuniverse.tumblr.com/


	9. Friends will be friends

Lately, when Nicky left or entered his flat, he feared meeting Joe just as much as he feared not meeting him, and he knew perfectly well how irrational it was, but at least he felt calmer than a few days before.

The panic that had forced him to flee the gallery now looked like a bad dream and made him feel stupid beyond all conceivable limits. He still wasn't sure what had prompted him to act like that; knowing that Joe saw so much beauty in him, to the point of giving his features to a God, should have been something to be proud of, instead it'd been terrifying. Coming face to face with that magnificent painting had been like looking into Joe's soul, and what Nicky had seen was beautiful to the point of being scary, huge to the point of being overwhelming. By now Nicky knew enough to know that rationality wasn't always on his side, but that didn't justify his behavior, in fact he was once again the one who needed to apologize. The thought that Joe may not have the patience to forgive him a second time was even more frightening, so Nicky devoted himself to work as much as possible, which at least allowed him to solve another 'problem'.

He swapped all possible shifts so that he was busier during the holidays, and didn't have to spend them in his empty apartment, contemplating the tree he hadn't decorated. The plan worked pretty well, and bot Christmas and New Year came and go without too much harm, it was Joe's though that never really left. The more Nicky remembered his astonished, pained gaze, the more he felt like the worse jerk ever, so he finally decided that something had to change, for good, and soon.

It was a cold January morning when he went out, and in doing so he took a long, nostalgic look at Joe's door, wondering if he was home, and what he was doing, then he walked down the street with his hands deep in his pockets and a heart of lead. In the dingy little room where Nicky had met Nile for the first time, a nurse told him that she wasn't there yet, but that he could talk to another volunteer. Nicky, however, only wanted Nile and decided to wait for her outside, in the street, because that place made him claustrophobic. There was a woman in the waiting room, in her empty eyes Nicky could see himself, and he couldn't stand being there, unable and inadequate to help her, since he didn't even know how to help himself.

Nile was not long in coming anyway, but when Nicky saw her on the other side of the street he felt once again the all too familiar cold grip of fear. There was another woman with her, who looked familiar, and who made Nicky want to flee again, but he didn't. As Nile came closer she greeted him, clearly surprised to find him there, but while her words were as kind as ever, her smile was a little tighter. Nicky had no trouble guessing why: Nile was a good friend of Joe's, he knew it by now. The other woman, on the other hand, gave him an indecipherable, inquiring look, which didn't do much to put Nicky at ease.

"I would officially introduce you," Nile said, she was feeling the tension rise and was starting to be a bit nervous too, “but you already know each other. Nicky this is Quynh, the lawyer I told you about, I think you and her already met at Andy's gallery, hum, a while ago."

"Indeed," they both said at the same time, relaxed as two plaster statues. Now Nicky remembered, and obviously Quynh had to be part of Joe's group of friends too, which explained her not-so-warm look. Now, however, he cared very little about that and everything else, he was there for a reason and wouldn't be distracted.

"I'm glad you came, you know?" Nile told him to ease the tension.

"Really?" Nicky asked, not entirely convinced, but Nile was always sincere. “Sure,” she said, “let's go inside. Quynh, see you later, okay?"

Quynh nodded, she entered the building with them but went in the opposite direction.

"Are you going to yell at me?" Nicky asked once they were alone, it was a joke but not entirely.

"Why should I?”

Nicky sighed, “I got it, you know? You are a bunch of friends, and I do nothing but make Joe suffer. So I understand if, well, you don't want to have anything to do with me."

Nile was taken completely off guard and also felt a little guilty. Nicky was there of his own initiative, for once without having been through the ER first, and she was really proud of him, however she couldn't be happy with how he'd treated Joe. She knew Nicky hadn't done it on purpose, but she's seen Joe a few hours later...

"Nicky, I'll always be happy to see you, and the others too," she said, but he gave her such a skeptical look it convinced Nile to rephrase her answer. "Ok, the others, well, they don't know you yet. We're worried for Joe, and I'm worried for you too. Why are you here for an instance? Is Tom back?"

"No, thanks God," Nicky hastened to say to reassure Nile and himself, the very idea terrified and disgusted him in equal measure. "But I still need help." He admitted with a sigh and let himself be guided into a small empty room, where they could finally sit and talk undisturbed.

"Have you thought about seeing a lawyer?" Nile asked cautiously. "You know, Quynh is very good, she will gladly help you. By the way, just so you know, she and Andy are married?"

Nicky's eyes widened "she's Andy's wife? " He asked in disbelief, and Nile feared she'd just made a wrong move. As far as she knew Andy had literally said two words to Nicky, but they'd be enough to terrify him, obviously, which was quite in character for Andy.

"Nicky, I wouldn't let anyone hurt you, surely you know that?"

Nicky nodded slowly. Did he know? Really? “I don't want to cause you trouble, Nile,” he said eventually. “I don't want to put you in a difficult position with your friends."

"This isn't what you're doing Nicky, believe me."

"It is, even if it's not my intention, just like it wasn't my intention hurting Joe."

Nile was silent for a while, sadly Nicky was right, and she hadn't liked how she'd found Joe after that infamous Saturday morning. So, it was now or never, "what happened, Nicky?"

Nicky sighed and ran a hand through his hair as if it helped him to recollect his thoughts, it wasn't easy to explain that after being trapped for two years in the worst relationship ever, the idea of letting another person close terrified him, but he had to try, Nile deserved it. “I don't know. That morning, it was a bit like a date, you know? I was a little nervous, but I thought it was normal, Joe was nervous too. Then I saw that portrait, and something happened, I felt overwhelmed I guess. Joe has a crush on me and I..."

"A crush?"

Nicky blushed, “I know that my social skills are abysmal, but I can still see those things.” He took a pause, then, as if he was lost in thoughts as a tiny smile appeared on his face. “Joe is amazing, you know, in everything he does. He's always so kind, he's taken good care of me, but I'm not ready. Maybe I'll never be ready again, maybe Tom ruined me forever, I don't know. Actually, that's why I'm here."

"What do you mean?"

“Nile, please help me, tell me what to do. I want to be a better person, for Joe. I'll do whatever it takes.”

Those words lifted a weight from Nile's heart that she didn't even know she was carrying and her eyes filled with unshed tears. Nicky was so brave, and he didn't even realize it. She put her small hand on Nicky's bigger one, and he instinctively took it. "Nicky, you'll be fine, I promise. I'll do everything I can to help, but I hope you're doing this for yourself too, not just for Joe, or anyone else."

She didn't like the uncertainty with which Nicky nodded, but for the moment she had to let it be enough. They talked for a long time after that, and Nicky finally agreed to talk to Quynh too.

"Hello, again," he said when the woman walked into the small room, trying to ignore the fact that she still was looking at him like a bird of prey would look at a mouse.

"Hi" was all Quynh said, but she listened carefully when Nicky told her his story and answered to all his questions. Eventually her lips stretched in a perfect, cold and beautiful smile when she said "we'll teach your asshole ex boyfriend a lesson he will never forget."

"Really?" Nicky was just too incredulous to be actually happy.

“Really,” Quynh grinned, “and Nicky? Thank you for the trust you've placed in me."

Nicky was speechless. He'd assumed that Quynh simply hated him, and now she was thanking him instead? "You're welcome," he mumbled, then Nile spoke, much more decisively and with a good deal of enthusiasm, "I told you, she's not that bad."

"Oh of course I'm bad, with my victims," Quynh replied, then patted Nicky on the back as they went out together "you, on the other hand, you're obviously a fighter, Nicky. I like it!"

That day when Nicky went home he was completely exhausted, and his working day had not even started yet. Nile and Quynh, however, had ignited a spark of energy into him, and opened a new world of possibilities, so when Nicky happened to stop in front of a window still decorated in white and red, as if pushed by an invisible force, he entered the shop, and when he came out he had a small package in his pocket. Nicky didn't really know why he'd made that purchase, since he'd never, ever find the courage to give that small present to Joe, who, in any case, would have thrown it at Nicky's head. Or not, because Joe was nice, but if he'd have had every right to do so.

On his way home, Nicky walked up the stairs to gain some extra time to muster up the courage to knock on Joe's door. He might not have the guts to give him the present, but this didn't excuse him from being a decent person. At each step he mentally repeated the words he wanted to say, until he came face to face with Joe's closed door. That unpleasant, familiar feeling of dread was there again, but now Nicky knew he had to endure it for a while longer, and he had to learn to live with it. He could handle the situation, surely Joe was going to be distant, but nothing more than that. When the door opened, however, Nicky's confidence crumbled like a sandcastle in the wind. There was Andy in front of him, whose clear eyes became so cold so fast, that Nicky almost feared he'd been teleported in the middle of a blizzard.

"Hum, hello," he tried anyway, suppressing a shiver, "I didn't expect to find you here."

“You don't say.”

"No, I mean, well, is Joe home?"

"Of course," was Andy's curt answer, she didn't call Joe and didn't invite Nicky inside. It was obvious that she didn't intend to make it easy for Nicky and while he knew he deserved the worst, he also remembered the moment Quynh had called him a fighter, and how uplifting that had been. To give up now would've been like letting her down, so he took a deep sigh instead, "look, I..."

"Who is it, Andy?" Joe's voice from inside interrupted Nicky before he could begin, then Joe himself appeared in the doorway, clearly surprised, "Nicky, hi, how are you?"

"Fine, I mean, better." Nicky lied. In fact right now he just wanted to bury himself.

“I'm glad to hear that,” Joe said.

After that the conversation already seemed to be stalling, but Nicky wasn't willing to leave empty-handed, not when knocking on that door had already costed him so much energy, so he took a deep breath and said, "I have to go to work, I don't have much time, but I wanted to apologize."

Andy eyerolled so blatantly it was impossible not to guess what she was thinking, Joe looked at her sideways, while Nicky felt out of balance for an instant, as if he'd slipped without actually falling. Despite that he decided that no, no one would come between him and Joe, neither his own mind, nor Joe's scary friend, to whom Nicky was the one to give a warning look this time. His glare couldn't compare with Andy's one, and that wasn't Nicky's intention anyway, he just needed her to know that she could think what she wanted, but she had to let him finish. Andy got the message and kept silent.

That little win gave Nicky the final push. He'd have preferred to talk to Joe in private, but in the end it didn't matter, he was going to do that thing, that morning, no matter what, but Joe preceded him. “Nicky, it was my fault, I should have warned you, asked for your consent,” Joe said at one go, then sighed, quite dejected, he added “I didn't do it on purpose, it's... it just happened.”

"And I'm very happy it did," Nicky said with absolute confidence.

Joe raised his big dark eyes in amazement, he looked hopeful like a child as he said "are you?"

"Joe, I'm so flattered you chose me, of all people, and I'm sorry for the way I treated you. There are so many things wrong with me."

"Oh Nicky, don't say that..."

"It's true,” Nicky shrugged, “but things will get better, I promise, so if you would, I'd love it if we could still be friends."

"That'd make me very happy," Joe nodded, still too shocked to be eloquent.

Nicky answered with a grateful, tiny smile, “ok then.”

"Good"

"Well, I've got to go now."

"Sure, see you."

"Bye."

Closing the door, Joe felt good and bad at the same time. That had been one of the most awkward conversations he'd ever had, and now Andy was looking at him expectantly. The point, anyway, was that Nicky wasn't mad at him, and that was much more than what Joe had dared to hope for, but there was still a veil of sadness on his heart. He'd lied to Nicky the same instant he'd told him he wanted to be his friend, and lying wasn't what friends did. Andy knew it too, and if she hadn't said anything yet, it was just because she respected Joe and cared for him, but it was evident she was barely holding back.

"Come on, I'm all ears," Joe sighed, some well deserved scolding would at least spare him some guilt, or so he hoped.

"Friends, Joe? You and Nicky?"

“Ok ok, you found me out. I got a little crush on my neighbor, but that's not big news. You all knew it before me, apparently."

"Well, that painting was a bit hard to ignore."

"Yeah," Joe admitted, because it was the hard truth. His poor, stupid heart had played a trick on him, so Joe felt something for Nicky, which went beyond mere friendship, and now he needed a contingency plan. He had to accept that friendship had to be enough. Joe would stand by Nicky's side in silence, without imposing his stupid feelings on him, not after everything the poor guy had been through. Of course Nicky needed some peace of mind, and if that was the only thing Joe could give him, then fine, he'd do it.

"So, what are you going to do?" Andy asked, still worried.

“Nothing. We'll be good neighbors, maybe we'll have a beer every now and then, watch a movie. It’s easy.”

"Easy," Andy repeated, not convinced at all, but she couldn't do anything else. Joe was a grown man, smart and capable, and he knew how to take care of himself. Often.

Joe tried to smile, but he just didn't have it in himself. He knew, deep down, that it wasn't going to be easy, then again what choice did he have? The words came out of his mouth without him being able to stop them, “you know, most of the time I don't even think about him. Other times, well, he suddenly comes to my mind and it's like a stab in the stomach."

Andy was definitely at a loss, now, rarely had she felt so helpless. She couldn't even be truly mad at Nicky, all that mess, it wasn't his fault as it wasn't Joe's fault. "Come over for dinner tonight," she said eventually, she couldn't solve Joe's problem but at least she could avoid leaving him wallowing in misery alone.

"I don't know..."

"We'll watch the game, get obscenely drunk and throw popcorn at the TV when our shitty team loses, so Quynh will punch us both."

Joe snickered at the very likely outcome, which was better than staying at home, getting depressed and _not_ doing all the work Andy, bless her, had provided him that morning. "Alright, let's do it."

Less than a month after starting what Nicky considered a new life, he already felt different, and it was a very good kind of different. The therapy sessions weren't easy and usually drained him, but they also gave him hope, even if he knew he still had a long way to go. It was such a miracle, for Nicky, to feel like that, that one day he decided to celebrate, so he invited Joe over to dinner. Friends were supposed to see each other sometimes, after all, and besides he'd promised Joe long ago to cook for him.

Joe gladly accepted, he hadn't seen much of Nicky lately, and he didn't like that he was alone all the time, besides he missed him. That night not only Joe found himself in front of a real banquet, but also in the company of a very handsome Nicky. The man looked simply dashing in his blue shirt and red apron, and he was more relaxed than Joe had ever seen him, which added to his charm. “Nicky... wow!” Was all Joe could say, doing his best to focus on the food on display only.

“In my defense, it's my therapist's fault. And Quynh's," Nicky said, providing Joe with a much needed distraction.

"Quynh?" He asked.

Nicky explained briefly. He still didn't like bringing up Tom, but that was Joe, and whenever he was around Nicky felt safer, stronger. "Well, she says there're good chances I can get back the money Tom stole from me, it's quite motivating."

Joe's heart fluttered, he was truly happy for Nicky, and immensely grateful to Quynh. “If Quynh says it can be done then you've nothing to worry about."

Nicky nodded, he was happy and grateful too, more than he could express. "She's so badass, I'm so lucky. Isn't it a strange coincidence though? Millions of people live in London, and I keep on running in your friends. Maybe it's destiny."

“Destiny?”

Nicky shrugged, suddenly awkward, "I don't know maybe. Do you think it's stupid?"

"No, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Silence fell at that point, but before it got too loaded, Joe noticed the Christmas tree still standing tall and proud in the living room. "And what does destiny say about that?"

Nicky had to laugh at that, suddenly more at ease. Why did Joe make him feel so good with so little? Determined to find an answer to his own question later, he said "destiny thinks the tree needs to stay where it is, if I don't want to bother my neighbor again."

"The reward was generous last time, feel free to bother to your heart's content."

And there was something in Joe, that night, in the way he spoke and looked, that kept on making Nicky's mouth go dry. Nicky blushed slightly, "Alright then, thank you. Oh, and dinner is ready."

They shamelessly feasted on the exquisite food, easily chatting about all and nothing, as if Joe's eyes didn't keep on falling on Nicky's lips, or Nicky wasn't mesmerized by Joe's elegant hands. After the main courses they still found room for some biscuits, which they ate sitting on the living room's floor, watching an old movie, with their backs leaning against the couch. They were both so comfortable around each other, so at ease, they wished the movie would never end, but it did. Still sitting on the floor, Nicky thought he could stay where he was forever and be perfectly happy, and Joe, almost reading his mind, said with a satisfied smile, "I could watch this movie a hundred times and never get tired."

Absentmindedly, as he stretched and replied "me too," Nicky reached out and placed a gentle hand on the nape of Joe's neck, stroking the soft curls as if he'd done nothing else his whole life. The gesture had come so naturally it took him a couple of seconds to realize what he was actually doing, and when he did, Nicky immediately withdraw his hand. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled.

Joe's face flushed instantly, and he answered with a barely audible "it's okay," then a little more confidently he stood up and said "it's late, I better go."

Nicky stood up as well, but he couldn't think of one single smart thing to say, except the usual greetings. When he closed the door behind Joe he was finally free to insult himself, would he ever stop acting like a moron? Then a knock on the door startled him, it was Joe again, sheepish and somehow different, with a light in his eyes Nicky had never seen before and his gaze was so intense Nicky almost couldn't bare it. Yet Joe looked uncertain when he said, "I think I left my phone here somewhere."

"Sure, come inside," Nicky said, as his heart did a lot of weird stuff in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crazy days at work again! I think I'll need to slow down a bit, but I'll definitely reach the end of this story, which isn't so far btw.


	10. A new reality

Inexplicably, or maybe not, the tension was higher than the sky when Nicky invited Joe in once again, so that he could retrieve his phone. In his haste to leave Joe had actually forgotten it, but there was also something else that had prompted him to knock on Nicky's door an instant after running away. Joe had _loved_ Nicky's caress, so carelessly and spontaneously given, and now he no longer knew if he wanted to stay or leave. The one thing Joe knew for sure was that Andy's words made a lot of sense, _Friends? You and Nicky?_ She'd been right to doubt, how could Joe be just a friend, to Nicky, when it took him so little to fall? A casual look, a light touch, a button leaving an inch of skin uncovered, everything in Nicky awakened something in Joe that should have remained dormant. Nicky was not a friend, he was the air Joe breathed, his guiding star, he was the butterflies in Joe's stomach every time he smiled.   
A sane man would've accepted the fact and acted accordingly, Joe instead was caught in the middle, with nowhere to go. He couldn't survive away from Nicky, but he couldn't get too close. Nicky too was different that night, as if he'd perceived Joe's doubts; his silence was tense, in fact, as he made way to the living room, where Joe's phone was supposed to be.

At a first glance, though, there was no phone in sight, which at least gave the two men something to talk about. "It must be under the pillows," Joe said with a sheepish smile, as he knelt on the floor and slipped his hands under the couch's cushions. Nicky did the same, and their hands didn't take long to find each other. When their fingertips bushed, they both froze, holding their breaths, as their eyes met hesitantly. Nicky looked away first, but he tentatively intertwined his fingers with Joe's ones, and since Joe didn't withdraw his hand, Nicky leaned closer, slowly, until finally he could leave a chaste kiss on Joe's lips.

As relaxed as a block of marble, Joe didn't move, he didn't push Nick away, but neither kissed him back, and Nicky noticed it. When he moved away he saw a pained expression on Joe's face that shocked him and broke his heart. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but not a single word came out.

Joe didn't dare to look at him and lowered his gaze “this isn't fair," he said in a small voice.

Nicky's brain short-circuited, he'd been so sure that Joe felt something for him! "Joe, I..." He tried, but he couldn't go on, he honestly had no idea what had pushed him to kiss Joe right now, not that he was regretting it. Joe, instead, didn't look particularly happy.

“Oh, here's my phone. I've got to go now.” Abruptly, Joe started to get up but Nicky gently took his wrist and said in a small voice "stay, please."

Unable to deny those big green eyes anything, Joe sat on the couch, "why?" He asked, because he needed to know the meaning of that kiss or he'd just go crazy. He'd never been more confused, a kiss from Nicky was such a wonderful thing, Joe had never even dared to dream of it. Now that his hidden desire was fulfilled, he was terrified, and in that instant he understood why Nicky had fled the gallery more clearly than ever. 

Love could be scary.

As Joe forced himself to calm down, the tangle of his thoughts seemed to unravel. Nicky was doing much better, but he was still fragile, he probably was even more confused than Joe, but what would happen if and when Nicky realized that he wasn't really in love with him? That was what frightened Joe more than everything. It could happen, without any fault on Nicky's part, but it could happen.

So what was he supposed to do, now? He'd promised himself to be a good friend to Nicky, to stand by his side in silence, without imposing his feelings on him. He'd been so sure of himself, yet he'd failed spectacularly at the first chance. Not only that, but he should have been kinder, he should've reassured Nicky somehow, rather than make him feel guilty like he was doing now. Nicky had already suffered enough, if it was the last thing Joe did, he'd have protected him. And yet Nicky was still kneeling on the floor, with a plea in his eyes, loosely holding Joe's wrist for fear of being left alone.

Joe's eyes burned, he had a lump in his throat that prevented him from speaking, but eventually he timidly nodded a yes when Nicky dared to ask, "Joe please, can we talk?"

Gently, slowly, Nicky then lifted Joe's chin and said "please, look at me."

Joe had to muster what little courage he'd left to do as Nicky was asking, and when they finally were able to look at each others in the eyes, Nicky spoke again, "Joe, I don't know if and when I'll be normal again."

This at least triggered a reaction in Joe, “Nicky! Don't say that, you're normal,” he said impetuously, even if somehow that wasn't the truth. Nicky wasn't normal, he was extraordinary, he was strong as he was vulnerable, he was brave as he was kind, he was the most incredible man Joe had ever met, but he didn't find the courage to tell those things out loud.

“There will be times when it may be difficult to be around me, but that's not the point, right?” Nicky went on, “when I saw your painting I was scared, as I am now. I've been scared for years and I can't take it anymore. If I kissed you it wasn't to satisfy my curiosity, or to fill a void, and I certainly didn't mean to make fun of you."

"I know," Joe admitted, but then he had to ask, "why did you do that?"

"Because it was the only thing that made sense, because I needed it, because I needed you."

Joe was silent for a few long moments, as if he was thinking very hard about something. Those words were all he'd ever wanted to hear and yet he'd suffered a lot already, for wanting to believe in love. "How long, Nicky?" He asked hesitantly.

"How long what?"

"How long will you need me?"

Nicky finally got up from the floor to sit on the couch, now he understood, and it was a punch in the gut. “Do you think I'm going to use you?" He asked, horrified.

"No!" Joe hastened to say, he felt horribly guilty, he didn't mean it like that, but then he almost shyly added, "I know you'd never do such a thing, not on purpose, but it could happen, without us even noticing what's going on."

Nicky did his best to not let those words hurt too much, "oh, ok, I see," Joe was just scared, and Nicky knew enough about fear not to blame him, besides everything was probably happening too fast. He didn't know how to save the night, though, but it was Joe, unexpectedly, the one to do it for them both, “wait, Nicky, I'm doing this all wrong. Can we start again?”

Nicky nodded eagerly, a fresh start was just what they needed.

“I'm an idiot, you must know that,” Joe said, and it wasn't exactly what Nicky was expecting.

“No, you're not,” he answered promptly, as if that was the only truth he knew.

With a small sigh Joe then dared to take Nicky's hand. It was cold, but it felt so right in his own, "I am an idiot who believes in eternal love even if he shouldn't, a romantic who will give you red roses and read you poetry and paint your portraits, if you'll allow me, because you're the most beautiful thing in the world, and one day you may grow tired of all this, of me."

That speech left Nicky completely stunned, for more reasons than one. Nicolò di Genova, the most beautiful thing in the world? And who could ever get enough of red roses and poetry, or even worse, of Joe? It just didn't make sense, “Joe, who could possibly get tired of love?”

“People. They do this a lot."

“People don't know what they're missing. I don't know what the future will bring, but I have already lost too much and I don't want to lose you too."

Had those words come from anybody else, Joe would've probably doubted them, but Nicky spoke with so much honesty that a small smile blossomed on Joe's lips all on its own, as a new hope warmed his heart. Finally, the fear was dissipating like fog in the sun and perhaps, together, they'd be able to get rid of it once and for all. Nicky felt it too, and let his heart decided for him, "can I kiss you again, Joe?" He asked simply.

Joe's smile was one of those that stopped time, but Nicky didn't want to stop, not when it came to the incredible, amazing man who sat expectantly in front of him. This time their kiss was a real one, long, slow and deep and when they parted Nicky took Joe's face gently in his hands, and said in a husky voice, “keep me with you, Joe, please.”

An instant later Nicky found himself engulfed in Joe's tightest embrace. "Yes, oh my God, yes!" Joe said with his head buried in Nicky's neck. He was almost unable to believe what was happening, it had all been so sudden and unexpected, and yet Nicky felt like home and family, and cold winter evenings spent cuddling under the same blanket, and it was just amazing. Besides, he was right, nobody knew what the future was going to bring, but Joe's instinct kept on pushing him toward Nicky, it had to mean something.

Nicky held onto him for a long time, trembling and swallowing his own tears, as Joe stroke the nape of his neck in a calming, reassuring manner. To trust the future wasn't easy even for him, and to start a new relationship was scary, given how the previous one had ended, and yet Nicky just couldn't help trusting Joe. “I've got you, I've got you” Joe whispered, until the first, powerful wave of emotions had calmed down. Then Nicky started to relax, leaned back until he was able to look at Joe again and brushed his brow with his fingertips. “You look different,” he said. “You look beautiful” Joe answered, and Nicky just kissed him, again and again, until the world around them disappeared.

"Nicky, sleep with me tonight," Joe said before he could stop, then hurried to correct himself, "I mean, just to sleep, we don't have to do anything, it's just..."

Nicky was already drowsy, as if drunken with emotions, kisses and love, but his face lit up. A whole night to cuddle Joe, to sleep in his arms, to get lost in his eyes? To think that he'd simply hoped to enjoy some good food and spend a quiet, nice evening with him! "I would really like that," he answered.

To avoid saying other nonsense, and because Nicky right now really looked more beautiful than ever, Joe kissed him one last time, then the two, tired and inebriated as they were, got up because the risk to fall asleep on the couch was high. Nicky only took a few things for the night, then less than an hour later, they were ready to go to bed.

Buried under the thick duvet of Joe's bed, they fought sleep like children, they were tired, but so incredibly happy they didn't want to miss even one second of their new reality. 

"So, is it official?" Joe asked after a while. He felt a little foolish, asking something like that, but it had all been so unexpected he still couldn't quite believe it. 

"Yes," Nicky said simply, then took Joe's and a kissed the tips of his fingers.

"You know, I can't wait to tell the others, Nile will go crazy," Joe grinned.

Nicky chuckled too, Nile's reaction was easily predictable and in fact he didn't worry about her. "She will be happy, Quynh too, I suppose," he said simply, but Joe understood the implication right away, and while he was completely sure none of his friends would ever become a problem, he still added, "Nicky, whoever saw us together would know right away I'm the lucky one." His tone had been deliberately light, and Nicky had noticed it, but still he needed Joe to know he didn't want to cause him problems, "Joe, I don't want you to give up anything for me, ever, especially your friends."

"Come here," Joe said, with a sudden desire to hold Nicky tighter. "It won't happen, I promise, but I won't say anything yet if you don't feel ready."

"It's ok, they're your friends, it's up to you to decide," Nicky mumbled yawning with his face pressed against Joe's chest, and with the absolute conviction that nothing bad could ever happen to him, as long as he was in those arms. 

“Let's talk about it tomorrow, ok? Now sleep,” Joe said, kissing Nicky's silky hair. His poor love had cooked for a regiment, of course he was tired. Nicky nodded, moaned something that sounded like a goodnight and a few seconds later he was fast asleep. Joe, on the other hand, was determined to enjoy his new, wonderful reality for a while longer, but his plan failed soon enough, as his eyes slowly closed.

The next morning they both woke a little later than usual, still in each other's arms. It was such a stunning and beautiful novelty that for a while neither of them knew what to do or what to say after _good morning_. Then Nicky looked at the watch and concluded that it was still too early to even think about getting up to go to work, so he yawned and said, “Joe, can I stay with you for a while this morning? I won't bother you, I promise, I won't say a word."

Joe kissed his forehead with a fond smile, "as if I could let you go so soon. And I'd love to hear your voice till the end of time."

Nicky positively blushed. Joe hadn't lied about poetry, and Nicky hoped to never get used to it, because even that simple sentence had warmed his heart wonderfully, yet sometimes real life could be demanding, "don't you have to work?"

"I can afford to start a little later. Can we stay in bed another five minutes?"

Nicky nodded, he was still sleepy, and the morning was cold, "five minutes," he said, but despite their good intentions, the five minutes turned into more than one hour, since their kisses became more heated and fiery and something inside them stirred.

After a while Nicky pulled Joe on himself, and the heat in their bellies grew even more when their cocks brushed against each other, sending an electric shock of pure pleasure in their bodies.

Nicky then pushed his head back, letting out a groan, so Joe stopped instantly. "Nicky?" He asked.

"I'm fine. Oh God, I'm fine, don't stop," Nicky begged.

Joe nodded and dropped on Nicky's neck like a hungry vampire, but his beard tickled and his hickeys were arousing, so Nicky went very close to giggle. " _Accarezzami Joe, così_ " he mumbled with his eyes closed, as Joe slipped one hand under the waistband of his pajamas and touched him with wide and slow strokes. At those words Joe's heart had skipped a beat, he didn't understand the literal meaning, but the expression on Nicky's face left no doubt. Then slowly Nicky opened his eyes again, "Joe," he asked with barely any presence of mind left to switch back to English "let me see you."

Joe's mouth went dry and he could only nod his consent as he let Nicky lower his pants and underwear. When Joe's cock too was free from the uncomfortable prison of fabric, Nicky just had to stare. Joe was beautiful, in any possible way, and Nicky's head was spinning a little. He pulled Joe again until he was completely sprawled over him, "I need more Joe, please," Nicky pleaded, already close to climax. More than ready to fulfill any of Nicky's desires, Joe rocked his hips, rubbing his hard cock against Nicky's one, still kissing the soft and pale skin under his jaw. Shamelessly, Nicky grabbed Joe's firm buttocks to guide his movements, arching his back to get more pressure. It only took a few minutes of rough friction, barely aided by a few droplets of pearly liquid, to bring them both to a quick and powerful orgasm, but it was more than enough for now, they had needed the contact, and the release, but neither of them was ready to go further.

Still panting Joe stayed where he was for a few moments more, lying on Nicky, sweating and shivering, and Nicky held him as if he were his lifeline. When Joe was able to breathe normally again, he lifted himself up on one elbow and for a long time just looked at Nicky, stroking his face softly with his knuckles. How many bruises he had seen on that beautiful face, how much blood, how much pain, but now Nicky was safe and content, and he was looking at Joe with so much love that Joe had to ask himself if he was still dreaming.

There was no need for words, and slowly Joe ended up lying down again dozing off, but Nicky remained somewhat alert, as he knew he would soon have to go to work. He allowed himself a few more moments to observe Joe, his Joe, who now slept peacefully; the more he became aware of what was going on, the more his heart filled with overwhelming happiness. He didn't want to wake Joe, though, so he cautiously slipped out from under him and put the blanket back over his shoulders. Joe barely moved, he opened his eyes just for a moment and Nicky kissed his forehead whispering "hush, my love, sleep a bit longer." Too used to wake up little by little, Joe gave him a small, dreamy smile and closed his eyes once again.

Moving silently around the house Nicky retrieved a paper tissue and made a rose of it, then left it on the pillow and went back to his apartment.

Now that his mind was clearer he thought about the conversation from the previous night. Maybe it was just his anxiety talking, yet he couldn't help but fear at least a little the reaction of Joe's friends, Andy's in particular. She'd never made a secret of not liking him, and Nicky just couldn't help being intimidated. Also, he knew close to nothing about Nile's fiancée, and vice versa, but he remembered the coldness with which Booker had treated him the last time they'd met. Not that Nicky blamed him. Back then, in the guy's eyes, Nicky was simply the racist asshole who had insulted Joe. If anything Nicky was grateful that Joe had such loyal friends, but he hoped that in time they'd accept him and forgive him for all the times he had hurt Joe.

Despite those not too happy musings, while walking down the street Nicky had to bury his face in the scarf, but the trick couldn't hide the blush spreading on his face as his mind went back to Joe's warm hands on his cock. Heaven knew how much Nicky wanted him, he wanted Joe to the point that if he didn't find some distraction, soon he'd be very very embarrassed.

If working at least distracted him from his most impure thoughts, Nicky had no defenses against his insecurities, which came back to haunt him from time to time. In the past he'd had to pay for every moment of happiness he'd had, was it going to end like that once again? He was still learning to keep his fears under control, it wasn't always easy, but this time not only Nicky was determined not to give in to them, he also wanted to act, to play ahead. After all, nothing could be crazier than kissing Joe out of the blue, on the living room floor.

Since that day Nicky had the lunch shift, by half past five he was already walking through the large art gallery's glass door. There were several people inside, and for a moment Nicky faltered, but when a man passed him, with such a large camera in his hand that Nicky didn't doubt he wasn't just a visitor, he asked him where he could find the owner. The man, without batting an eye, pointed him to a colleague of his, who was talking to a dark-haired woman, elegantly dressed in black. And that was sort of a point of no return.

Nicky walked toward them, still arguing with himself, then the woman casually turned around and gave him a startled look. She put her hand on the arm of the man she was talking to, said something to him, and walked over to Nicky.

"What's going on?" She asked, "is Joe okay?"

Nicky released the breath he didn't know he was holding, Andy had not exactly welcomed him, but she hadn't turned him away either, and Nicky still appreciated that she was asking after Joe. "Joe is fine, but I'd like to talk to you, if you don't mind."

Andy frowned, evidently this wasn't what she'd expected; she turned to the photographer, then back to Nicky, and finally said in a neutral tone "come on, let's go to my office." Her gaze was indecipherable, but not hostile, and at least she seemed willing to talk. As he followed her like a schoolboy who, despite having done nothing wrong, had been summoned to the principal's office, Nicky regarded that fact, however, as a first, encouraging victory.


	11. Of dreams and nightmares

"Something to drink?" Andy asked as she and Nicky got to her office. Nicky gladly accepted, he wasn't much of a drinker, but times like that called for a bit of liquid courage. He didn't think that Andy was a bad person, but she surely could be intimidating and besides, Nicky had no idea what to tell her, which didn't help. He had gone to the gallery because he wanted to make things right with her, so that Joe never had to choose between him and his friends, but he didn't feel like telling Andy they were together now, not without Joe. It didn't seem fair to deprive him of the joy of personally giving his best friends the big news, especially without asking him first.

Unaware of all of Nicky's doubts, Andy poured two drinks and invited Nicky to sit in one of the two small armchairs in front of the desk. She sat next to him, then, and spoke first, taking Nicky by off guard. 

"I think I owe you an apology," she said.

Nicky frowned, genuinely surprised, “an apology? What for?"

"Come on Nicky, I treated you like shit."

Nicky didn't think so, at least not entirely. The two of them had only exchanged a few words, and while Andy definitely hadn't been friendly, she hadn't been mean or cruel either, and Nicky could understand why she'd behaved like that anyway. He wouldn't take it well either, if someone made Joe suffer. "I know you and Joe are good friends,” he said, “and believe me, I'm happy to know that he has somebody who takes care of him."

Andy nodded, then after a few moments asked "and you?"

“What about me?”

"Who takes care of you?"

For a moment Nicky hesitated, until some time ago the answer would have been an immediate, unequivocal and depressing _nobody_ ; for some time, however, things had changed, and he still wasn't completely used to it. Thinking of Nile and Quynh always warmed his heart, they had never treated him as a helpless victim, or even as a client, they had been friends with him pretty much since the beginning, and then there was Joe, who had been by Nicky's side in the hardest moments and who was now so much more than a friend. "I have Nile, and Quynh, and of course Joe," Nicky said, barely holding back a dreamy sigh. "Actually, that's why I'm here."

Andy's interested was piqued, even more than before, “what does that mean?"

“Andy, I understand why you don't trust me, I really do. I wouldn't be happy either if I saw a person I love suffering because of a total stranger. I'm just asking you to give me a chance."

Under the woman's careful scrutiny, Nicky took another sip of his drink. Andy had even apologized to him, and yet it wasn't easy to bear her piercing gaze. What was he going to tell her if she asked him why? Why should she just give him another chance? But she gave him a small smile, instead, and the tension melted. “Of course, Nicky. And you? Will you forgive me?”

For a moment Nicky almost thought that Andy had already talked to Joe, that she knew everything, or even that Quynh had told her something and that now she pitied him, or that she felt compelled to befriend him, but he was ashamed of himself for that unfair thought. Quynh would never do such a thing, and Andy surely had to know something, given her wife's job, but while she could surely be harsh, she was also sincere, and so were her apologies. 

"I forgive you, Andy, even if there's nothing to forgive," Nicky said then, and what was left of the initial tension dissolved completely as Andy's little smile grew wider and brighter. "Thank you," the woman said, then as if she'd had a sudden revelation, she added "we should go out all together sometimes, you're part of the gang too, now."

Nicky's heart warmed up, it was nice to have friends again, he'd almost forgotten how good it felt, but for some reason that thought only made him miss Joe. He wanted to go home, share that happy moment with him, and kiss him senseless for having made his life worth living again.

"Thanks Andy, I'd like it very much."

Before Andy could answer the door opened and Quynh peeked out. "Oh, hey guys!" She was obviously surprised to find Nicky there and gave Andy a quick questioning look. Andy got up and greeted her with a little kiss, "we are still breathing and no one is bleeding" she said with a straight face, but her tone was light and the mirth in her eyes was impossible to miss.

Quynh laughed, indeed, "Nicky, if my wife mistreats you, you have to tell your lawyer."

Nicky laughed as well, getting up, "I'll tell you the most gruesome details in private, but now I have to go." The plan to run to kiss Joe had to be realized as soon as possible.

Quynh looked at her wife with pride, then they both walked Nicky to the exit. He walked through the entrance much lighter than when he'd arrived, determined to return once more to finally be able to admire Joe's magnificent painting, now that he was able to truly appreciate it. As Nicky was getting off the sidewalk to cross the road, though, a voice he unfortunately knew all too well rang threateningly behind him, making him wince.

"Here he is, the little bitch. Did you come to confabulate with your new friends to take more money away from me?"

For a moment it was as if the world collapsed on Nicky. Tom's voice was a bad memory from a past he never wanted to belong to ever again. How he had endured all the anger, the hatred, the hostility for years, Nicky didn't know anymore, but he forced himself to turn around. Tom stood there, perfect as always in his expensive suit, with his trademark malicious glint in his eyes. But Nicky was stronger now, he had friends and someone waiting for him at home. He could handle the situation, even if it wasn't easy and his first instinct was to run away. "If you want to discuss money you need to call my lawyer." He said coldly.

“Which lawyer? The Chinese whore?"

Something inside Nicky snapped, and without even thinking about it he walked toward Tom, looking like he was just begging for the final straw, a good reason to punch him. “Be careful Tom! I'm done with your bullshit!" He growled clenching his fists.

Tom almost recoiled, surprised as he was every time Nicky reacted, but it didn't take long for him to come to regain his composture. “Really? What are you going to do, hit me? I thought you were some kind of pacifist or some other bullshit like that."

"Fuck you, Tom."

At that Tom got too close, and hissed “is this what you want? Maybe I'll come to see you later, we've never had a proper goodbye fuck, after all."

Nicky paled, his hands shivered, the very idea disgusted him, and so did the memory of all the times he'd let that man use him for his own pleasure. For a while there had been something resembling love, maybe, but then Nicky had given himself to Tom for fear or resignation, or because he'd been convinced it was his duty somehow. In return he'd ended up with a depressive crisis he'd not yet fully overcome and he still had to truly forgive himself, so he hesitated, fearing he'd overestimated his own strength, but two avenging angels appeared by his side, and Tom's confidence too, wavered visibly.

"You're only making things worse for yourself, Mr. Ward,” Quynh said coldly. Andy, much less formally, grabbed Tom by the collar of his jacket, yanked him towards herself and said, "I don't want to see your ugly face around here ever again." She'd spoken without raising her voice, but with so much hostility that Nicky thanked God to be among her friends, and not her enemies. 

Tom freed himself and tried to laugh at them all, but he was nervous, and he couldn't properly hide it. "You're so pathetic, Nicky,” he scoffed, “hiding behind your mommies skirts. How typical."

"You heard the ladies," Nicky said, unimpressed, "leave. Now."

Tom raised his hands in a sarcastic gesture of surrender, "see you around, Nicky."

"I highly doubt it," Quynh replied, Tom ignored her, but at least went away. Once he was gone, Nicky let out the breath he was holding, shook his head and said, "thank you, and forgive me for bringing that psycho into your lives." But Andy took him by the shoulders and looked at him straight in his eyes, and when she spoke her voice was softer than Nicky had ever heard it. “Nicky, no. That man is a criminal, it's not your fault," she said.

Nicky could only sigh, rationally he knew she was right, his therapist said pretty much the same things, but it was so hard to get rid of the guilt, of the regrets, and to accept that he didn't have to blame himself for being involved with Tom in the first place.

"He threatened you again, didn't he?" Quynh added, and Nicky just nodded, disheartened. "Ok, Nicky, we need to report him, I'll ask for a restraining order, he won't even be able to get close to you again."

It wasn't the first time somebody suggested him to go to the police, Quynh herself had done so already, finally Nicky agreed. Quynh was taking care of the financial side of that whole mess, but he had never wanted to sue Tom for the physical violence, despite all the evidences gathered during his visits to the ER, because in his heart Nicky had always hoped Tom would be redeemable, or that at lest he'd just move on and forget about him. Now he knew he'd been too optimistic, if not naïve, and besides he couldn't allow Joe to get involved, or even worse hurt. If Tom really came to his place, if he met Joe... the very thought made Nicky shiver, but at the moment he was just too shaken to do anything else than going home. "Alright, I'll go to the police. Just, can we do it tomorrow, Quynh?" He asked, exhausted, "I'd like to go home now."

"Of course, now go home and rest, we'll think about this tomorrow," Quynh said, gently stroking his arm.

"Alright, I'll give you a ride," Andy offered, then turned to Quynh and added, "honey, can you take care of the gallery for a while?"

Quynh promptly agreed, but Nicky, as always, didn't want to cause problems "Andy, Quynh, thank you, but you don't need to worry, I'll take a cab."

Andy would not be swayed, though, "I'm not leaving you alone, let's go," she said, not unkindly, because she still felt like she hadn't done enough for Nicky, and apart from that, she could see in his eyes that he wasn't ready to be alone yet. Since she was right, and Nicky actually didn't feel like being alone, he gave in, and while he waited for Andy to retrieve the car keys from her office, he texted Joe to tell him how much he missed him. Joe immediately texted back urging him to come home, because he had prepared a nice dinner for two. 

Nicky smiled to himself, he already felt a little better.

"That asshole, he has threatened you before, hasn't he?" Andy asked once she and Nicky were in the car.

"He didn't stop to mere threats," Nicky said, and noticed how admitting such a thing out loud wasn't so difficult anymore.

Andy clenched her jaw, "son of a bitch, I need to make sure he never sets foot in my gallery again, no matter what. I'll call his editor tomorrow."

Nicky was immensely grateful to her for not asking why he'd been in a relationship with a man like Tom in the first place, not that he'd have had an answer anyway. “It's not necessary, you know?” He said instead, “I mean, if you do it for me. It's ok, I can deal."

Andy looked at him and grinned, "Quynh was right."

"About what?"

“You're brave.”

"I'm not really sure."

“Believe me, Nicky, I don't pay compliments to people just because I feel like being polite. Anyway that jerk not only hurt you, he insulted Joe, he insulted my wife and other than that, he was never professional. London is full of young artists he has treated unfairly. It's about time he starts paying."

Nicky still wasn't sure if he was brave or not, but he certainly knew Tom's arrogance and total lack of objectivity all too well, so he couldn't help but agree, Tom had ruined himself and some payback was due.

The car ride helped to ease the tension, and the conversation with Andy came quite natural, which was sort of unexpected but nice. Yet, once at home, Nicky threw himself into Joe's arms. Joe wasn't asking for anything better, he'd missed Nicky, but he knew immediately that something was wrong, "my love, is everything alright?"

With his face buried in the curve of Joe's neck, Nicky mumbled “now it is.”

Joe was hit by a powerful wave of tenderness, he caressed Nicky's silky air slowly, and held him tight, but he needed to know, "Nicky, what happened?"

Nicky didn't hesitate. "I run into Tom," he said raising his face, then in front of Joe's worried expression he immediately added "it's okay, Quynh and Andy were with me. Quynh thinks we should go to the police, we'll do it tomorrow, and Andy even drove me home."

Joe was quite confused by all that news, "Quynh and Andy?" He asked.

Nicky smiled wearily as he took off his jacket and dropped onto the couch, "I went to talk to Andy, at the gallery, I think we understand each other."

Joe raised an eyebrow, vaguely amused. He'd have paid to be there, but at that moment he had only one priority “I'm glad to know that, but what has Tom got to do with it? What did that asshole do to you? Are you ok?”

"I think so. He no longer scares me as he did before, and besides now I have good people watching over me." Nicky finished that sentence with the softest smile and Joe sat down next to him to kiss his temple. "No one will ever hurt you again, Nicky, I swear."

Nicky believed in Joe without any doubts, and he doubted Tom would actually try something, but he still didn't feel like sleeping alone. And maybe Tom had nothing to do with it, maybe it was just that one night in Joe's arms was enough to develop an addiction, which wasn't a bad thing at all, so he asked "Joe, can I stay here tonight?"

Joe hadn't dared to talk about that yet, but he was more than happy to say that yes, Nicky could stay at his place that night and any other after that, especially because the mere thought on Tom getting close to his Nicky again wasn't reassuring at all. He was glad that Nicky wasn't afraid, but Joe had never been able to forget the night he'd found him sitting on the floor of his apartment, desperate, alone and bleeding, and probably never would. His heart ached every time that ugly memory crossed his mind, and that time too, he had to remember himself that Nicky was safe now, and he was right: he had good people, good friends, watching his back, and he had Joe himself, so if Tom was stupid enough to ever harass him again, he was in for a nasty surprise.

Sensing Joe's discomfort, though, Nicky rested his head on his shoulder trying to offer some comfort. He was silent for a few long minutes, he wanted to reassure Joe, but he wasn't sure how. Joe's love was so great, true and palpable that Nicky could feel it all around himself, it saddened him a lot that in return, Joe had only more worries. "I told you it wouldn't always be easy to be with me," Nicky eventually said, but Joe only held him tighter as he answered "and yet being with you makes me happier than I ever dreamed to be.”

Nicky lifted his face and deposited a small kiss on Joe's cheek, just where the black, thick beard gave way to the amber, soft skin. Soon after his stomach rumbled loudly, though, and that slightly melancholy moment ended in laughter.

They dined on the food Joe had prepared, and in the end Nicky was as in awe as he was close to an indigestion. "Joe, your cooking is sublime, I had no idea! The instant I have my restaurant I'll hire you."

Joe was humbled by the compliments, but the key detail was another. It had been weeks, if not months, since the last time he'd heard Nicky talk about his restaurant. A lot had happened in the meantime, of course, that had taked Nicky's mind somewhere else, but Joe was now pleased and surprised, "so, will you really do it?" He asked hopefully. Nicky deserved it, he deserved to realize his dreams and see his talent appreciated.

"I think I will,” Nicky stated, taking Joe's hand, “and it's all thanks to you."

“To Me? Hayati, I did nothing.”

"Nothing? Joe, you brought me back to life, I owe you everything."

Joe got closer and tenderly kissed Nicky's knuckles. He was sure he'd done close to nothing, Nicky had fought by himself and Joe had just... been there. Every now and then. "You don't owe me anything Nicky,” he said, "I'm so proud of you!"

Nicky lowered his gaze just for a moment, with a hint of blush coloring his cheeks. He wasn't used to that feeling yet: being appreciated, having somebody who was proud of him and had no qualms in telling him. He hoped to never get used to it because it really felt good. "You know, I'd like to name my restaurant after my grandmother," he said then, "do you think it's silly?"

Joe was ready to die of love there, on his kitchen chair, eating the last of his dessert, "no, I don't, it's a very sweet idea, and so... you. Now come here" he said and kissed Nicky's lips that tasted like almonds and honey. 

After a while, when the kitchen was tidy again, and since it was still too early to go to sleep, Joe asked, "Nicky, would you like to pose for me?"

"To pose for you?"

“Yes, only if you feel like it. I promise you, it will be very boring."

Nicky, however, didn't find the idea boring, on the contrary, there was something sensual in the idea of Joe retracing every outline of his body with his eyes first, and then with his pencil, so he gladly accepted, and under Joe's directions, he soon found himself sitting backwards in a chair, with his arms on the backrest, wearing only his jeans.

Behind him, Joe went to work and nobody spoke for a while, Nicky's mind wandered, but kept on coming back to that room. Soon enough, with his eyes closed, he imagined Joe, serious and focused, and he could feel his deep, intense gaze on his body with so much clarity that his brain, on its own initiative, began to fantasize about Joe's hands as well, and on his warm caresses, and on his scorching kisses. Only when Joe asked him if he was okay, Nicky realized that he had probably let out a moan.

He answered with a nod, not trusting his voice, but Joe saw him running a hand through his hair, which was what Nicky often did when he was frustrated. It shouldn't go like that, so Joe put down his pencils and went to him, "my love, we can stop if you're tired."

Nicky lifted a perfectly eloquent look into Joe's eyes, and only then did Joe notice that Nicky's problem was of a completely different nature. "Oh," he said, then swallowed audibly. The bulge on Nicky's crotch couldn't go unnoticed, and Joe suddenly felt hot under the collar.

"You said it was going to be boring," was Nicky's mock accusation.

"To be fair I hardly ever use models,” Joe defended himself, “I'm not very experienced on the subject."

"I see."

"So, do you want to stop?"

Considering the state Nicky was in, there weren't many other options. He nodded, stood up slowly, and suddenly there was close to no distance between him and Joe.

They didn't even reach the bed. They stumbled upon each other, on the couch, touching and kissing, hastily unbuttoning their pants to release their throbbing erections. Soon their hands became more greedy, bolder, until Joe dared to go down and touch Nicky's small opening, carefully studying every expression in his beautiful eyes to make sure he wasn't going too far. But Nicky lifted his hips, silently asking for more, and Joe's fingertip slipped inside his tight hole. Nicky gasped, and grabbed Joe's wrist to prevent him from removing his hand.

There was nothing Joe wanted more than giving Nicky pleasure, so he gladly obeyed and let Nicky _push_. That was all it took, Nicky had been low-key on the edge since that morning, and posing for Joe had done the rest. He didn't even bother being embarrassed for coming in gushes of pearl after just a bit of fingering. Joe didn't mind either, the pleasure written in clear letters on Nicky's face, his loud moans, and the way he clenched his muscles around his finger were for Joe the most powerful aphrodisiac ever. Nicky's warm hand did the rest, and he too climaxed, calling his lover's name.

"God, you are so beautiful," Joe said dreamily, as soon as he was able to speak again. Everything was still new, and sometimes he just couldn't believe his luck. To have a man like Nicky all for himself, to have his love, his trust, Joe could only hope that dream would never end. Still trembling with emotion, Nicky stroked Joe's soft, dark curls and struggled to accept that he wasn't just dreaming as well. Was it really possible to love someone so much without dying? He asked himself. His eyes stung with unshed tears, but he didn't really care, this time they were tears of joy.

Nicky was happy, incredibly, insanely happy, and finally, he thought, it was time to share that joy with Joe's friends. With _their_ friends.


	12. Family - part II

Right outside the police station, Quynh hugged Nicky and told him how proud she was of him. Nicky enjoyed and returned the hug, he needed it. He had zero regrets, and he was glad to have Tom further and further away from his life and the people he loved, yet reporting the violence hadn't been easy, and he still couldn't understand why, but now that it was done he felt much better. The only thing left to do was to go to Joe and pamper him a little.

That morning, more than once, Joe had offered to go with him, but Nicky had had already promised himself to keep him as far away from difficult, ugly things as possible; besides he wasn't going alone, he knew he'd have had Quynh by his side, a trusted friend and a fantastic lawyer. Only later had occurred to him that maybe Joe had misunderstood his intentions, thinking that Nicky wanted to keep him at a distance.  
Determined to remedy that possible mistake, after parting with Quynh, Nicky went home and made a short detour along the way, so when Joe opened the door he found himself face to face with a beautiful red rose.

"I shamelessly stole your idea," Nicky said trying to scrutinize the other man's expression. Joe laughed fondly, and Nicky knew that everything was alright.

“I'm very glad you did,” Joe said, then took the rose to enjoy its wonderful scent. "Nicky it's gorgeous, thank you."

As soon as they were both inside, behind their close door, Nicky kissed the man he loved "you are gorgeous."

Joe kissed him back, not knowing what to say as his heart overflowed with joy. He loved romantic gestures, but usually he was the one who did them, much more rarely had he been on the receiving hand, and he loved every second of it. Anyway, he had to put romanticisms in stand by for a moment, so as soon as he was able to speak again, he asked "so, how did it go? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, I'm really fine and I hope this story is over forever," Nicky answered. He was a little tired, but he hadn't lied, he felt good and his hope was real.

Still holding his beautiful rose, Joe took him by the hand and led him to the couch where they could relax for a while. Nicky _just_ had to forget, now, and Joe hoped to be able to help him.

"So," Nicky said after a while, also determined to forget as quickly as possible, "do you want to go out on Saturday night? All together?”

Joe lit up like a child. He'd waited to break the big news to his friends because he wasn't sure that Nicky was ready, but since now Nicky himself had suggested it, Joe could no longer wait, and the decision was taken.

The rest of the day went by peacefully, Nicky had the whole day off, and spent a long time reading on the couch while Joe worked on his new painting, just as had happened a long time ago. It hadn't been an easy day, that one, and whenever Joe remembered that Nicky had almost left, almost disappeared from his life, he trembled. Now things were different, though, and when Joe occasionally raised his gaze from the canvas and saw Nicky calm and relaxed, his heart filled with joy, love and hope. Would that be their life forever? Long days spent simply like that, enjoying each other's presence? How many good things the future would hold? Starting with Nicky's restaurant. They had planned to start looking for a suitable place together in a few days, and Joe was looking forward to it just as much as Nicky. In the meantime the red rose standing proud and tall into its vase seemed to want to reassure him that the war was over: Nicky's love was all around, whether the rest of the world liked it or not, including his parents. He felt at peace, now, as if he'd been on the run for his whole life, and now he could finally rest.

Later, they cooked a simple stew together. Joe hummed as he stirred the pot and Nicky, as soon as he finished making a fruit salad, hugged him from behind, resting his chin on Joe's shoulder.

“What does the chef suggest?” Joe asked stirring the stew methodically. “Is it ready?"

"The chef is starving," Nicky said, nibbling on Joe's neck playfully.

Joe laughed at the tickle and suppressed a shiver of pleasure, "message received" he said, and decided that the stew was ready.

After dinner, they tidied the kitchen moving around each other in a perfectly synchronized dance, as if they had lived together for a lifetime, and just as naturally, that night happened.

Nicky was lying on the bed, barefoot, almost boneless under Joe's lazy caresses and feathery kisses, while Joe was almost lost in his own word as he slowly unbuttoned Nicky's shirt. Once he was done he took some time to contemplate the masterpiece that was Nicky's chest, his ivory skin and his small, hard nipples, then kicked off his own shoes, took off his shirt as well, and burned, when Nicky's gaze went darker, more intense.

Almost out of the blue, Nicky said in a husky voice "tonight I want to be yours, Joe," and Joe had to pause for an instant and focus on not to die, before nodding and finishing to undress Nicky. He knew that moment was going to come, sooner or later, and yet it had taken him by surprise. Of course, it was the most wonderful surprise ever. Nicky was simply beautiful, and Joe didn't just want him, he needed him.

Already on the verge of impatience as well, Nicky lifted his hips when Joe took off his underwear, relieved to have his hard cock finally free. It still wasn't enough, though, because that night everything was different, including Joe, who seemed more perfect than ever. Nicky's erection was almost painful, but he didn't want to rush things so he let his hands wander slowly over Joe's body, wherever he could reach, while the man got rid of the few clothes he was still wearing.

When Joe was naked too and Nicky lowered his gaze, he shivered with anticipation: Joe's cock was fully erect and leaking, and Nicky felt no shame in wanting it so much. Anyway, what coherence he still possessed, disappeared the instant Joe leaned over him and peppered his abdomen with tiny kisses, going lower and lower. Instinctively Nicky opened his legs, and Joe eagerly took his length in his mouth, but when Nicky arched his back calling his name, he stopped. “It's alright, my heart" Joe said, stroking Nicky's long legs, ready to stop, but Nicky moaned “ _More_ ” and Joe felt a delicious heat invade his own body, so he swiped his tongue across Nicky's slit tasting a few droplets of pearly precome.

“Oh God,” was the only comment Nicky could articulate before Joe started to suck on him properly. He'd never felt so overwhelmed, he'd never felt a pleasure so intense he could barely stand it. He was out of control but he felt wonderful, so when Joe teased his hole with a finger he trembled and moaned and opened his legs some more, so Joe understood that his poor love wouldn't last much longer. Reluctantly he pulled back, then, and moved away to retrieve the lube from the nightstand.

A few instants later Joe was back, kneeling between Nicky's legs, already anticipating what was coming next to the point he could hardly breath. Finally he entered Nicky, first with one, then with two well lubed fingers, and Nicky just pushed, needy and willing, and ready for the taking. "Please, Joe, please" he begged, and Joe's heart skipped a beat. It hadn't been his intention to push Nicky to the point of begging, nevertheless those three simple words almost made him explode with pleasure. He was getting dangerously close by the minute too, and Nicky's body felt pliant under his hands since the first instant, so Joe finally removed his fingers and guided his erection towards the little hole waiting for him, barely able to refrain himself from pushing all the way in. "Nicky?" His tone was now more serious then ever.

Nicky didn't hesitate, there was only one thing he wanted, and he wanted it now, “yes” he said with his eyes closed, lost in sensation. That was enough for Joe, who kissed him while finally penetrating him with excruciating slowness. Only when he was fully buried in that wonderful heat Joe opened his eyes again, he hadn't even realized he'd closed them too. The sight before him was wonderful, Nicky looked so lewd, so wanton while he gave himself so trustingly, obviously past trying to hold back his moans. Joe wanted to give him more, though, so he adjusted the angle until he was able to brush the bundle of nerves inside Nicky's body with each and every thrust.

Almost taken by surprised, Nicky screamed Joe's name, crossing his ankles behind his lover's back, to hold him close so that he could feel the heat of his skin and kiss him again and again, as Joe pushed even deeper and faster, and grabbed Nicky's dripping erection. Between that and Joe's cock hitting his prostate, Nicky stood no chance. He came in warm streams, crying out into a new kiss.

The pressure of his clenched muscles drove Joe to the limit too, and he came undone as well. He only managed to thrust into the trembling body beneath his own for a few moments more before filling Nicky with his seed, then with a sigh he let his head rest on his lover's shoulder.  
When Joe tried to slide off his body, Nicky didn't let him go right away, instead he held him tightly, slowly massaging his scalp, and muttering sweet words in Italian that Joe couldn't understand, but nevertheless went straight to his heart.

*****

The moment Joe had waited for so long finally arrived. Along the way to the group's favorite pub Nicky held his hand, happy and relaxed, but as they approached their destination his grip tightened and Joe sensed that he was getting a little nervous. He said nothing, though, he was sure that all of Nicky's fears would disappear the moment they were together with their friends; still, just before entering he stopped to give him a quick kiss.

"What was that for?" Nicky asked, curious, but not sorry at all.

Joe shrugged, "I just felt like kissing you."

Unexpected little gestures were one of the things Nicky loved the most about Joe, and he'd have gladly taken him in his arms, never to let him go again, but they were in the middle of a crowded street and their friends were probably already waiting for them, so instead he took Joe's hand again and lead him inside.

Just as expected, the other two couples were there, and when they saw Joe and Nicky come hand in hand, a little ruckus broke out.

Andy and Quynh turned to each other and said at the same time, "I told you!" And soon after "no, _I_ told you!" Then they burst out laughing. Nile instead jumped to her feet and almost launched herself at Joe and Nicky, holding them both at the same time. “Guys, guys! Oh my god, I'm so happy for you! I knew it!" She almost yelled, then she took a step back and looked at them as they stood in front of her, gloating and happy, and for a moment it was as if they were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

"Thanks Nile," Nicky said, "for everything."

Nile hugged him again, "oh, don't even mention it."

"Well, apparently everybody knew everything already, here goes my surprise," Joe laughed. The other laughed with him, as Andy nodded to Nicky, and he gave her a small, almost secret smile. She knew he didn't need her approval, but she also wanted him to know she was by his side. Then Booker came up and patted Joe on the shoulder "if it helps I knew nothing, but I'm happy for you guys," he said to Joe, then turning to Nicky, he added, "welcome aboard. And, well, I'm sorry, you know, for the last time."

Nicky, who had never blamed Booker for not trusting him at the first sight, and hardly remembered the last time they'd met, said in all honesty "it's ok Booker, really, and thank you."

"Which time?" Joe asked instead, a little suspicious. Booker opened his mouth as if to say something, but Nicky spoke first "we met once, a few months ago, when I worked for the catering," then with a kiss on Joe's cheek he put an end to all of his worries. He wanted Joe to enjoy that night from the first minute to the last. Joe vaguely remembered Booked mentioning something on the matter, but mostly he wanted Nicky to have a good time, ise he dropped the subject. Whatever had happened between Nicky and Booker was clearly in the past, besides Nicky no longer needed help, it was clear that he was perfectly at ease, and indeed, at the end of the first round of beers it was already as if they had all known each other forever.

Two hours later, when the night was drawing to a close, partly because of the alcohol, partly because she was really happy, Nile was close to tears, "it's so good to be here tonight, all together, I'm so happy."

"Chéri," Booker interjected "leave this to me, okay?" Then he took his fiancée's beer and repaid her with a kiss on the forehead.

"Not in this life!" Nile replied placidly, taking her glass back. The others couldn't help but laugh, but it was actually pretty late, so Joe took Nicky's hand and said "guys, it was a great night, but we should go, it's late."

Nile stopped him. "No, wait!" She said, "we need to toast before we go.”

Andy immediately agreed, "you know I never say no to this sort of things, but what are we drinking to, exactly?"

“Well, we are all far from home, but we are a real family, let's drink to that,” Nile answered promptly.

Quynh loved the idea right away and eagerly said yes, and the others followed her. They knew how important it was for Nile to keep the group together, actually it was the same for all of them. They'd all been alone before finding each other, and now they were always there as a safety net, so Nile was right, that was something to celebrate.

"Come on, stay a little longer," Booker asked, turning to Joe and Nicky with a hopeful look. Family was important for him too and he liked Nile's idea as well, but above all he wanted to see her happy.

Joe shrugged "I work for a slaver, I should be asleep already, but maybe I can make an exception."

"Hey!" Andy said and punched him on the shoulder playfully. Joe took the blow quite bravely, then he turned to Nicky "is it ok for you too, habibi?"

"You know how restaurants are like on weekends, people go crazy" Nicky said uncertainly, but Nile was already looking at him with the eyes of a doe, so he hastened to add "ok, give me a moment, I'll try to ask Andrej to swap shifts, I bet he'll say yes." Then he took his phone and quickly texted his colleague.

“Andrej?” Joe asked hoping that whoever the guy was, accepted.

"He's nice, and I took his shift at Christmas, I only hope he's not asleep already." Nicky said, then his phone beeped and he grinned at the screen. "Look! He said yes, that guy is a blessing."

"Should I be jealous?" Joe laughed and immediately Andy, Quynh and Booker teamed up to tease him. "Of course, your boyfriend is super handsome," Quynh said.

"And he even knows how to cook," Booker added

"Hey, you're already taken, remember?" Nile interjected, then turning to Nicky, the girl said "don't listen to these idiots and thank your friend for me." Then she ordered another round for everyone.

Their toast "to our family" was loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the room, but no one was annoyed, some other guests even clapped and raised their glasses.

Eventually, though, the night came to an end. On the way back Nicky was quite silent, Joe figured he was just tired, or maybe he had drunk a little too much, like all of them, but once they got home he realized that there was actually more. "My heart, are you alright?" He asked.

Nicky smiled and replied, "it was a great night," then they both changed in relative silence, which Joe didn't like much. Nicky, who could now easily read into him and knew his answer hadn't been satisfying, sighed. "Joe, Andrej is just a colleague, I swear."

At first Joe didn't understand, “what?”

"He's kind to everyone, that's just how he is."

Joe winced and in an instant everything became clear. That poor excuse for a human being, Nicky's ex, somehow was still there to bother him and Joe couldn't have hated him more.

"My beautiful moon, please forgive me." He said getting closer and taking Nicky's hands.

Nicky frowned, “forgive you? What for?

“I was just joking, and so were the others, we tease each other all the time, but it's all in good nature. You talk to whomever you want, you see whoever you want, and you certainly don't report to me."

"Oh," Nicky said, more surprised than he felt he had any right to be. Joe had never been that kind of person after all. “So... aren't you jealous?"

"No! I mean, maybe just a bit? Nicky, look at you, of course everybody with eyes will want to steal you from me, but I want you to know that I trust you and I want you to feel free, this is the most important thing."

And it was in that precise instant, in his pajamas, disheveled and still slightly tipsy, that Nicky for the first time in a long while felt free to say it, "I love you so much, Joe," then he brought Joe's hand to his cheek with a dreamy sigh. It was warm and so familiar, and made Nicky feel protected while Joe felt dangerously close to cry like a baby. "I love you too Nicky,” he said in a trembling voice, “more than my own life, more than I could ever say in words."

“No one will ever steal me from you, Joe, I promise. I'll be yours forever."

"And I'll be yours, Nicky, for as long as you'll want me."

"Forever, I want you forever, Joe."

Joe laughed and cried and kissed Nicky a thousand times, while Nicky giggled without shame and hugged the wonderful man that kept on making his life wonderful, then when he accidentally looked up at the bedside clock he realized it was past midnight. "Joe, do you know what day it is?" He asked grinning.

Joe turned to the clock as well, "uh? Sunday?"

"Ok, give me a second," Nicky broke away from Joe's embrace and began rummaging through the things he had brought from his apartment, and that were now at home as much as he was. Eventually he returned to Joe holding a small blue packet with a golden ribbon.

“Here, I bought this a while ago, I though of you when I first saw it, but I didn't have the courage to give it to you back then. Now things are different, so...” At the end of that somewhat awkward speech, Nicky just put the packet in Joe's hand. "It's Valentine's Day, my love," he said then whit a sheepish smile, since Joe still looked confused.

“Oh Nicky.”

"I know it's silly, I don't even know if you celebrate,” Nicky hastened to say, “you can open it some other time if you want."

"No way!" Joe answered, "wait, don't move". Under Nicky's puzzled and amused gaze Joe went away and came back shortly after, holding a packet that was roughly the same size as Nicky's one, "I thought of you too, you know. Now we can open them together."

Nicky, all mushy inside, loved the idea at the first instant despite his brain being stuck on that _I thought of you too._

Sitting on the bed, they opened their presents at the same time, then looked at each other as surprised as they were happy. Nicky was holding a chain from which hung a steel crescent moon so shiny it looked like a tiny mirror, while a small copper sun, perfectly finished in every detail, dangled from the golden chain Joe was holding.

“Nicky this is beautiful, thank you!”

“You are welcome, and thank you” Nicky said, then stood silent for a while, swallowing the knot in his throat and contemplating his little moon. “I'll never take this off, Joe, never.”

Joe smiled at him adoringly, then wore the copper sun and kissed it, “neither will I.”

“Help me?” Nicky asked then, and turned around so that Joe could fasten the silver chain for him. As soon as it was done, Nicky turned around again and almost leapt into Joe's arms. They both dropped backwards on the bed, laughing into each other's embrace, happier than they had ever been.

"Ya amar," Joe said fondly, when the laughters calmed down.

Just as fondly, Nicky simply answered "il mio sole splendente*."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok folks, this ends here :D Thank you so much for sticking with me once again, I hope you enjoyed the ride, I love you all ❤❤❤
> 
> I guess I'll be back soon(ish) because I'm writing something else already :P
> 
> *"My shining sun"


End file.
